


Effective Immediately

by lololaufeyson



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Power Bottom Billy Hargrove, Vampire Billy Hargrove, Violence, billy needs a hug :(, if it matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lololaufeyson/pseuds/lololaufeyson
Summary: A what-if alternate ending and continuation of the season three finale where Billy tries to get out of dodge, but finds a few too many strings tethering him in Hawkins. Now if only he can find some damn scissors....





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll have tws at the start of chapters that may include potential triggers

Billy’s eyes snapped open and it was dark. No, not dark- foggy, smoky. He strained to sit up and the breath he took burned, and he couldn’t hold back the cough that threatened to take his lungs with it. The air was thick with smoke and he could make out flames between the plumes of it, and the silhouette of what once was the mind flayer. What the fuck happened here?

A damaged support beam for the second floor cracked under the weight and crumbled, taking an entire section of the mezzanine with it. The sound of the wood and sheet rock splintering then crashing into the floor was almost deafening, and that would’ve been enough to send him running but the wave of smoke and soot that exploded from the gust of wind right into his face and it nearly knocked him over. 

He steadied himself and booked it for the closest exit, which just so happened to be a shattered window near the front doors. Billy hurdled over the jam, scarcely missing the shards of glass still fixed into the frame and kept running until he no longer felt the heat of the fire behind him. Halfway across the massive parking lot, Billy turned around and saw the flames and smoke reaching far into the sky, and Helicopters surrounding the collapsing mall, lights scanning the entire area. He teetered on the edge of the light one of their spotlights and took off running towards the woods. The last things he needs right now is to be taken in by some mysterious government agency.

After a while, he didn’t know how long, but it felt like a long time, Billy found familiar ground and made his way home. Of course, the door was locked, so Billy had to break into his bedroom the old-fashioned way- jamming a pocketknife into the latch until it catches and open it. 

Inside, he dug his duffel bag out of his closet and grabbed a fistful of shirts and some jeans. While he was at it, Billy changed out of his bloody, gooey clothes into some clean ones. He looked up and the clock on his nightstand says it’s four in the morning. He reached instinctively for his necklace and froze. 

“Fuck,” he sneered and felt himself up and down, hoping it had just snagged on his pants or something, but nope. Frantic searching around his room revealed nothing too but made a decent amount of noise. “Fuck!”

“Billy?” A small voice came from the door as it squeaked open.

Billy turned over and saw Max standing in the doorway, her face red and sunken like she’d been crying a lot. This was the other thing he was trying to avoid. They stare at each other for a second and Max makes the first move, more or less lunging at him and wrapping him up in a crushing hug.

Billy grunted, nearly falling over at the force of it. The flayer jabbing him with those clawed tendrils flashed in his mind the tighter she squeezed. He felt a wet spot on his chest. “Max-”

“I thought you were dead. I- we watched it get you, over and over again! There was so much blood and-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Billy finally hugged her back. He pet her head and rubbed her back. He was shaking. “I’m okay.”

“Oh, your,” Max quickly pulled away from her brother and wiped her face, “your chest and- and- Billy you scared me!” Her demeanor switched from concerned to angry like the tip of a hat. She jabbed him in the stomach. “Asshole!”

“Hey! Language!” 

“Did you pretend to die on purpose to make me feel bad?!”

“Of course not, Jesus Christ, would you keep it down?” 

“Neil and mom aren’t home. They’re out doing something; I don’t know what.” She adjusted herself and scoffed. “I thought that many claws would be enough, even for you.”

“Nope. I’m never gonna die, especially not by some pissed off extra-dimensional meat monster.”

“Well, just,” she took a deep breath, “take it easy? Please?” Max looked around at the mess Billy made and grimaced. Boys were so messy.

Billy nodded at her and watched her leave. As soon as she closed the door, he locked it, picked his duffel bag back up, and left back out the window he came in from. 

The really frustrating part about this whole running away thing, more than the fact that Max caught him, was that he forgot to look around the mall for his Camaro, because it sure as hell wasn’t at home. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if the damn thing was even drivable anymore considering the three ribs he broke when Harrington t-boned him. Billy adjusted his duffel and started walking west down the road. Since east went into town, the faster direction to “gone” is west, and he thought maybe by walking away from where the sun was rising, he could get an extra minute or two of walking before he had to find a place to hunker down for the day. He’s wrong, but it was a good idea.

It was boring as hell walking in silence other than the crickets and the crunch of gravel under his feet. Well, it wasn’t complete silence, not to him, since he had hypersensitive hearing. He could hear raccoons shuffling in the brush, cars driving several miles away, the heartbeats of the deer sleeping hidden at the base of trees, and it’s something he’s normally tune out, but it’s better than no noise at all. 

He did a bit of mental math and at the pace he was going, he could get maybe ten miles away before he’d be in serious danger of burning up, assuming the sun would come up at the time he was guessing, so that isn’t something he can rely on. Of course, it had to be the middle of July that he’s outside without protection’; the longest days of the year were mid-July and the sun came up the earliest. 

To be on the safe side, he should be looking for a place to hide already; eeking in an extra couple miles isn’t as important as being under a roof. He picked up his pace. 

The sky was getting lighter by the time he saw a house, and lucky him it had no cars in the driveway. Billy was exhausted so he ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him that the place looked a bit familiar. He took out his knife again and approached a window on the side of the house. He really didn’t need a cop driving by or the owners coming home and seeing a stranger fiddling with their house. He picked his knife up at the latch of the window but saw that it was unlocked.

“Rich people…” He shook his head and slid it open.

Inside, he couldn’t help feel a little jealous looking at the excess, the spotless, unused, he assumed, space. That level of financial security where you can buy functionless item just because they’re pretty is something Billy knew he wouldn’t cross in this lifetime. The waist high vases with fake dead plants in them, the real art- not printed- he ran his fingers over the textures, the unused accent candles, very annoying. 

He also didn’t bother to look around the ground floor; as soon as he found the stairs he went up and opened the first door he saw. Why are bedrooms always on the second floor, he wondered. It looked like a bedroom out of a sad magazine, like no one even used the room, which was perfect, and just to be on the extra safe side, he opened the closet and buried himself in the corner farthest from the door. It was cramped as fuck, obviously, it was a closet, but he pulled a sheet from the shelf and used it as a pillow against the wall, which made it a bit better. There was a joke in here somewhere, he thought, about being crammed in the closet again; in the closet in Hawkins metaphorically, in a closet literally in a random house he just broke into. Oh, it would be like closet cubed if the owners were huge homophobes, which… honestly come on- Hicksville, Midwest USA, of course they are. 

Billy fidgeted for a while, trying to find some semblance of comfort while unable to lay flat unless he sprawled across the inside of the door. He figured he could house-hop like this until he gets a little farther away, then he can steal a car and hurry the fuck up. He wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere per se, but as far away as he could get, as quickly as he could go would be best. It was only a matter of time before Max spills the beans and those kids believe her that he’s still alive and they convince the cops that he’s a missing person and start actively looking for him. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs, just… fall asleep. Night will come again soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

A hundred and fifty or so shouting voices ripped Billy out of dreamland, and he busted his head against the wall with his little jump. Well, not quite that many but there were a few and they were loud. Good thing he had a wristwatch, oh wait, no he doesn’t. So, guessing what time it was was pointless. 

It took a moment for the sleep to clear out the brain fog before he could make out what was being said, and who was saying it. He recognized those voices. 

“I’m telling you he’s alive!”

“Max… we all saw what the flayer did to him, you can’t possibly think he survived that…”

“He’s not-!” Mumbling. “We spoke last night, okay. Why don’t any of you believe me?”

His sister and her gaggle of geek friends were arguing about none other than himself. Whose fucking house is this? 

“Wait, you saw him saw him?”

Steve’s voice undercut their squabbling. 

Why did they have to be here? Why couldn’t he be in some random stranger’s house? That’s why it seemed so familiar, he went to a Halloween party here, and it completely skipped his mind. Billy mentally punched himself for having ignored that little voice. Now there was a real chance he could be found again, since his sister was not one to give up easily. She’ll have them convinced and searching in mere hours, massively shortening his fleeing time. Those kids were smart, too smart, it was really annoying. A remnant of the flayer's grip on him made itself known- he felt genuinely angry that the kids that foiled ‘their’ plan to take over were once again in the way. 

“YES!!!” Max basically screamed. 

“Oh my god can you lower the volume sixty or so notches.”

Billy exhaled sharply; yeah Steve was probably nursing some head trauma from the night before, and he could smell the dried blood. 

“Are we sure she didn’t hit her head?” 

“Are you hallucinating right now?”

“How many arms do I have?”

“I’ll make it one if you don’t shut up.”

“Hey, hey-”

Billy tried so hard to tune them out. Their voices were shrill and grating, and it didn’t matter what they were talking about. But even with several rooms, walls, and layers of fabric between them, Billy could make them out as clearly as if they were right next to him. All the energy spent healing his own battered body, cleaning the monster out of his mind, and all the physical and mental stress that came with it had exhausted him, and he was hungry. It heightened his senses, being hungry, like a survival mechanism. The more he needed to feed, the better he could hear them, smell them. 

It was fucking impossible to even try and fall back asleep with the bombardment to his senses. He buried his head under every available, and within reach, cloth item and he could still hear them. Of course, it had to be this house. 

After what felt like an eternity, seconds dragging on like hours, Harrington finally forced the kids away, sending them home on the bikes the rode all the way out here to bother him on. Billy relaxed, not realizing his entire body was tensed the whole time. 

It occurs to him that Steve must’ve slept elsewhere last night, because even with only him in the house, there’s no way Billy could’ve missed him. Which means he could’ve taken his time snooping around the house for water, a more comfortable place to hide, a fucking pillow, which he’d give his left leg for right now. 

The smell of his blood, dried on his clothes and skin, newly weeping wound, bleeding again from rough movement and… he’s washing himself off, the mist of the water sweeping plumes of invisible particles of his blood wafting into the air, intensifying the smell tenfold. His mouth watered.   
Billy couldn’t help himself. He crawled forward and cracked the door to investigate and a ray of sunshine burst in, scalding him across the side of his face and arm. He yelped and slammed the door shut, much too loud. 

He cradled his face, holding a hand gingerly over his eye, feeling the crackled, burnt skin under his fingertips; it was like burnt wood. He could make out blisters and black skin on his arm clearly in the black of the closet. He’d never been burnt by the sun before. He was given his necklace when he was turned, so he’d never have to feel it. In the millisecond he was exposed to it, he felt like white hot hell, easily the worst pain he’d felt in his life. He can only imagine what it would feel like to burn to death. 

Over his own commotion, he heard Steve’s heartbeat pick up. He knew Steve heard him. 

“Dustin, I swear if that’s you…”

Billy smirked. Idiot.

Though he gave dead silence in response, Steve still felt the need to leave his post, be it bathroom or kitchen, and take a look around. Well deserved as it may be, home alone and you hear a door slam and a voice, Billy really hoped then that Steve was a bigger idiot than he thought he was. 

“I’m warning you. I have a gun!”

Psh, no he doesn't, Billy thought.

To Steve’s benefit, he was quite good at sneaking around; very quiet. Billy almost lost him a couple times, but floorboards gave him away. He did wonder if Steve had the ear enough to know right offhand which part of the house the sound came from, but it was confirmed when Billy heard him approach and fiddle with the door handle. 

He holds his breath as though it’ll make any difference. The door cracked open and Billy could see his shadow from under the closet door. Harrington is right fucking there. He could barely control himself, pressed against the wall, seconds from throwing the door open and attacking, sun be damned. The closet door shifted. His fangs now fully exposed, Billy raked his nails over his jeans and tensed his legs, readying himself. 

But then the phone went off. Steve left to answer it.

The tension shattered like glass; the ringing in his ears disappeared and his mind was his own once again. 

“Hello?... Oh, hi mom.”

Billy exhaled like an anvil was pulled off his chest; he ran his hands through his hair and squeezed. Get a hold of yourself, guy, Billy thought, just calm down, count to ten, it’s gonna be alright.

He sat back on his heels and used what few brain cells he seemed to be in charge of to remember that, hey, attacking the most popular tool in school, adoptive mother to a half dozen of middle schoolers, in broad daylight, was a literal death wish, be it from the light, the nail bat, Eleven’s powers, some dynamite contraption like they used on the flayer, or whatever else. 

It was the home stretch now, just a few more hours, he guessed, until he could get away, and never look back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tiny update this time :)

When Billy woke up, it was quiet, besides the sound of gentle rain drumming the roof. 

He cracked the door open with considerably more care than earlier and found it was dark out; perfect. He hopped up and snuck out of the closet, but he stepped directly onto something glass and it shattered. 

A resounding “FUCK” leapt from his chest.

Steve, who was nodding off in the recliner in the den jumped and shot up, gripping his bat, raring to swing, and stormed into the room yelling. 

With he only light coming in from the hall from the den, it was far too dark for Steve to aim before swinging, so he just went right for it; hit first, ask questions later. Lucky for him, so not so much for Billy, he connected with something with a dull thud. 

Billy shrieked and lashed out, grabbing Steve’s arm, and clumsily threw him at the wall, away from him. 

Steve reeled and groaned as he took a moment to find and slap on the light switch. He gasped at Billy before him. 

Billy’s bleeding now, again, his face and arm not yet healed, from his lower left side. He pulled the bat out of himself and threw it at the ground, each nail jabbed into him felt like fire, and pulling them out only made it hotter as his blood, a firm ninety eight point, six oozed out dying his shirt and threatening his jeans. 

His healing was all but humanly slow at the moment and he was looking at Steve like a starving lion might look at an injured zebra.

“Ouch.” He growled.

“Hargrove?” Steve croaked, new bruises saying hello. “What the fuck?” He watched Billy rip the spiked weapon out of him, dripping blood onto the taupe carpet, unfortunate. “But… you died. It ripped your chest out!” He tried to reach a volume to properly display his shock, but something only barely above a conversational level snuck out. 

Billy just stared at him. There was something weird about him, about his eyes, the color was off, much brighter than what seemed normal, or possible, bags under them, skin tinged a sickly yellow. Steve could’ve sworn he heard Billy snarl deep in his chest, something low and animal-like. Steve blinked, hazy, lightheaded, feeling like he was close to throwing up.

Billy lurched towards him as he saw the color drain from his face, helping Steve slump to the floor, leaving a thin red streak on the wall above him; his head was bleeding. Billy did in fact snarl then, because he couldn’t resist for one more second. He popped a red finger into his mouth and didn’t stifle a moan; he was sickly sweet. 

Steve looked up, woozy, deliriously, with a weak disgusted face. He may feel like someone filled his head with steel wool, but he knew what he saw plain in front of his face. “What th-” He breathed out, “-t the fu…” Steve huffed and managed to get a few more qualifying sounds out and he tried to push Billy off him, but the stain finally makes him pass out. 

Billy took full advantage, licking up the little pool of blood in the hollow of Steve’s tiny collarbone, and he bites down at the base of his scm muscle. He doesn’t need much, even now that he was nearly literally starving. It’s not like that fucking Lost Boys movie, which made Billy irrationally angry whenever it was mentioned; he doesn’t kill people, no one he knew did. He took maybe a pint, and that was indulgent, he didn’t want to stop touching Steve. He was so warm, his skin was so soft, and he smelled like expensive cologne.

It takes a bit for him to pull away, and when he does, he wiped his hand over his completely healed side, getting his own blood off his shift, and then smeared some of it over Steve’s throat… and the back of his head… and over his scuffed knees… and, and, and. They closed up in seconds. 

Level-headed and of a right mind once more, Billy picked Steve up like he weighed nothing, one arm under his legs, the other under his shoulders, and carried him down onto the couch. Billy looked over Steve almost fondly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He’ll be fine now, for sure, to look after Max and her friends like he has for a while now. 

Billy went back upstairs to grab his bag off the floor, then finally took off. Goodbye Hawkins Indi-fucking-ana.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw stitches

Billy’s mind is blank for the first couple miles, trying to get out of his head, focusing on the humidity, the fog rolling in. But he can only go so long ignoring the doubts nipping at his conscience. Max SAW him. She isn’t going to believe what the others said; that she was just making things up, or hallucinating, or dreamt it. She’s just not going to let it go; she’s not that type of girl. 

What if Neil gets pissed at her because she won’t drop it? No, Max would complain to the boys, not him. What if, worse, she doesn’t mention him at all, and Neil gets pissed thinking she’s hiding something? No, Max is smarter than that; she could easily come up with a convincing lie or ten. What will he do without a free babysitter he can forcefully control? He goes back and forth, at a crossroads, stopping in his tracks and pacing back and forth, listening to the gravel crunch under his feet. 

He can’t take the chance. Billy cares too much about Max to risk even the slightest chance that Neil would ever lay a hand on her. He couldn’t bear it if he did. So, he turned around and started back towards Harrington’s house. 

Billy trudged back into the house he was so desperate to leave before, thinking what a colossal waste of time and energy. He threw his bag down on the foyer bench and meandered around the house. It was bigger than it looked; a dining room, completely separate from the kitchen?

A shock tore through his body and Billy almost fell to the floor. He’d been in this room before, when he was… possessed. He felt those icy limbs crawl over him all over again, just for a split instant, but it was enough to send his blood pressure skyrocketing. It was terrifying. He quickly backed out back into the living room and took a deep breath. It’s okay, you’re fine, it’s gone now. 

It took a couple minutes to calm down, and when he did, he found himself curling up on the recliner in the den, commandeering the remote from the table in front of Steve’s gently sleeping form. In the couple hours he was gone, Steve had in his sleep managed to tangle under the knitted afghan that was hanging over the back of the couch. 

He looked comfortable, at least. Billy monkeyed around with the channels for a while until he found something mildly interesting that wasn’t an infomercial. It was incredibly late, between the late-late night talk shows and the early bird news, so he didn’t have many options. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, no clock in the room, but he definitely dozed off a little, a few times. The room was starting to lighten, the early summer sun rising. Great, at this rate he was never going to reverse his sleep schedule. Billy got up reluctantly, cozy in the chair, and carefully drew every curtain and blind closed, as perfectly sealed as he could make them.

As soon as he sat back down, Steve stirred. 

He turned over, pulling himself out of the crevice of the couch and digging the heel of his hand against his sleep-crusted eye. He hummed and stretched his legs out as far as the arms of the couch would let him and yawned, looking like he was unhinging his jaw like a snake. When his eyes finally flicked open, He needs to do a double take, unsure if what he was seeing was a dream or real life. 

“Hargrove?” He jumped, him being the last thing he was expecting to see first thing in the morning. “-the fuck are you in my house?” He stood up quickly, too quickly, since his vision went a little dark. Someone needs some iron.

“Morning sunshine.” Billy deadpanned.

“Did you break in? Get out!” 

“Now, that’s no way to treat a gue-”

“Shut up, wait, how are you here?” Steve started pacing.

Billy looked pointedly down at his legs and back up at Steve, who tightened his lips and glared at him.

“Max wasn’t lying.”

“Yeah, I see that, asshole. I meant; how can you be playing such a cruel joke on your sister? She’s out of her mind trying to prove to the kids that you’re alive when they- we all watched you die. Just-… How are you alive anyway?”

Billy scowled at the accusation but didn’t feel like defending his entire fucked up family situation, so he ignored it in favor of the latter question. 

“I don’t remember everything,” which is true, “I woke up and the flayer was dead, the mall was on fire, and everyone was gone,” which is also true. “I don’t know how I wasn’t dead,” there’s the lie, “but I was too busy getting out of there to question it.”

Steve stopped pacing and approached Billy. “You don’t look even remotely like you almost died a couple days ago.” He reached out for his barely-there shirt to tug it that extra inch down to see what nasty wound the flayer left.

“Don’t,” Billy warned, huffed up to his full height, unfortunately shorter than Steve, “touch me.”

Steve scoffed. “So, getting possessed by an interdimensional alien monster demon thing has done nothing to quell your nasty attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude, pretty boy.”

“YOU DON’T-?!” Steve threw his arms up, incredulous at Billy’s complete lack of self-awareness, but his comically wild expression was cut off before it even started. The last of the sleep in his system blocked off most of the pain in his busted ass face but trying to crinkle it into something expressive sent lightning through his nerves. 

Billy’s familiar with pain, overly so; he was a real bull and has been in as many fights as he had hairs on his head, and with it came a high tolerance for pain, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have sympathy for other people feeling it. Especially Steve. He had a soft spot for him, the sheltered little trust fund rich kid, he didn’t know why, by all accounts he should hate him the most, but he doesn’t.

“Let me see.” Billy reached out to his bleeding face.

“Hargrove-!” He tried to bat his hand away.

“Shut the fuck up.” Billy reached up and pulled the shitty, half-peeled bandage off his forehead. “Fuck.” Billy himself winced at his eyebrow- it was split to the bone and bleeding, again. Head wounds always bled real bad, since the tissue up there was so vascular. It looks like he didn’t bother to go to the hospital and just slapped the gauze pad on there himself with some old yellowing medical tape. 

Billy sighed. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Which one?” Steve frowned.

“I should clock you for that.”

Steve make a face, gently this time, and led Billy to a bathroom on the ground floor, seemingly the one he was using last night to wash himself off, judging by the bloody paper towels in the garbage and the red twinges in the sink. Messy. 

In the cabinet under the sink, Steve pulled out the first aid kit and handed it to Billy, sitting down on the edge of the tub. He must know his way around one with how violent he is. 

Billy removed the rest of Steve’s crap work and chucked it into the garbage. From this close he could really see how black and blue his cheek and lip were too, whoever did this to him must’ve been pissed to beat hell. He dabbed at the edges of his eyebrow with a peroxide soaked cotton ball, trying to soak as much of the dead blood clotting against his skull as he could, and shushing Steve’s whining. The more you leave in, the bigger chance of infection and the worse the swelling is. 

That gash wasn’t cut into him with a knife, or brass knuckles, or slammed into concrete… that was beat into him with a fist, or fist-like object, he could tell by how the meat was crushed and how gnarly and uneven the skin was. Concrete or wood or something like that as a weapon would leave remnants in the wound or marks around it. 

A flash of Billy’s first brow split came over him, but he pushed it down. Steve’s lucky he isn’t concussed. It takes a lot to get that skin to break with a blunt instrument like a fist. There was a little burst blood vessel in Steve’s eye there too. Billy looked away.

“This is the part you’re gonna hate.”

“What?”

Billy turned back, holding the little suture kit from the box.

“Oh, absolutely fucking not.” Steve stood up to leave.

“Shut up, you baby.” He grabbed Steve’s wrist and tugged him back down. “If you don’t, your face is gonna heal all stupid.”

“Is it… gonna hurt?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Not as bad as getting it split in the first place.”

Steve let him but made him dab on some of the topical lidocaine first.

Billy looked like some sort of medical professional, Steve thought, the gloves, using the little clamps instead of his plain fingers, knowing how to do this kind of thing. It was odd, seeing him in any context that wasn’t violent, especially one so… kind. 

Billy was very glad there was a little packet of lidocaine in the first aid kit, because without it, Jesus Christ, Steve was going to have a time. With how much he had to adjust and handle the muscle, he just had to get his face split right on the edge of the muscle there instead of in the middle of it. It was hard to find good points to anchor the sutures to make sure it wouldn’t heal scrunched. 

Steve, despite barely feeling a thing, was white knuckling his fists into his pajama pants. Something about knowing he was getting stitches and just imagining what it must look like. He tried to think about anything else, like how ridiculous it was that just a couple days ago they were literally trying to kill each other. 

Steve saw just how blue Billy’s eyes were from this close. He thought they were grey before, but from this close they were clearly blue, and his eyelashes were really long. 

“Don’t fall in love with me Harrington.” Billy obviously could tell Steve was staring at him from, what, six inches away, he teased and tied off the last knot.

Steve looked down away in embarrassment, but saw a peek down Billy’s criminally loose shirt, at his chest, where there was no wound at all, just fully healed scar tissue.

“Hey what the fuck,” he jolted up.

“What?” Billy closed the first air kit and tossed his gloves.

“Your chest.”

Billy looked down and back up quickly, “I heal quick, okay, it runs in the family.” Unfortunately, that wasn’t the shittiest lie he’d ever come up with in under one second flat.

“It’s been like two days, that’s not humanly possible.”

Billy just looked at him, unsure what to say.

Steve looked like a deer in headlights and suddenly took off like a bullet, “it’s still in you isn’t it?” He yelled, running for the nail bat he swore he left in the foyer.

“Of course not, it left when the gate closed!”

“How do you know it closed if you woke up after the place exploded?”

It exploded? Billy sneered, shit. “I just know, okay. It’s really not in me anymore!” He was walking after Steve, carefully avoiding the rays of sunlight shining around the curtains, who was running around frantically searching for his bat. 

Steve barged into the spare room and saw blood dried on the wall and splotches on the carpet, next to his bat. “What the fuck. What is going on here?! Am I just going fucking crazy?!?”

“God damnit Harrington, just calm down, sit your ass down, relax, and let me explain! Just! Stop!”

Billy pulled his shirt off and threw it to the ground. He knew he’d have to demonstrate if Steve was going to believe him. He grabbed his pocket knife from his jeans and flicked it open. He brought it up and drew it harshly across his pec.

“What are you doing?” Steve flinched, gripping the bat tentatively. 

Billy simply stood there, and within seconds, just fast enough to see, just slow enough he needed to do a double take, the cut was pulling itself back together, right before his eyes. 

“I’m a vampire.” Billy opened his mouth and unsheathed his shiny fangs.

Steve just stared, silent. They could hear a pin drop. 

Billy waited for something from him. Usually it’s yelling, once he got tackled, and one time someone went right for his pants; apparently, they had a fetish. 

“Are you joking?”

That… wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Vampires aren’t real.”

Billy gestured confusedly with his hands. “Are you joking? A giant tooth monster from another dimension tried to destroy the city but a blood sucking creature of the night is too far-fetched?”

“You’re tan! You’re a lifeguard! You go to school!” Steve hollered at him.

Billy was losing his patience. “Notice anything missing??”

“No, should I?”

“My necklace, idiot. It’s a charm so I can be in the sun. I fucking lost it between almost dying and my house.”

Steve threw his hands up and held his head. “Yeah of course, demons and vampires and magic, right here in Hawkins Indiana, why not.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. 

Steve shook his head, clearly not processing this, and dropped the bat back down on the floor, before going to see who it was. “Stay here.” He said already out of the room.

He pulled the door open and there stood Robin in cuffed up flood pants, a loud colored button up and some sequined sandals. “Oh, hey Robin.”

“Hey loser. I just came by to see how you were doing and maybe see if you wanted to get some brunch.”

Steve took a second to switch mental gears. “Uh, I mean yeah, I could eat I’ve been up for a while now.”

“The stitches are cool. The girls are gonna be all over yo-oh my god.” Robin brought a hand up to cover her mouth in reaction to what she saw entering the room behind Steve- a shirtless, shredded guy covered in cool scars. 

“Uhh, sorry to interrupt, I, w-” she took a breath, “my, my, Steve, I didn’t think jocks were your type.”

Steve turned around to see what Robin was staring at. “Fuck me, Hargrove, I told you to stay in the bedro- No,” Steve held a finger up to Robin. “not like that.”

She could not contain herself, giggles erupting from her chest. “Hey, I’m not judging. You know I’m gay. Hey, man, good for you. Would’ve appreciated some reciprocity in the bathroom the other night, but alright.” She tossed her hands up.

“N, I’m not- he’s not- we’re not-!”

Billy licked his lips and put his charm on. He liked this girl already. “Relax Harrington. First time? I’ve taken a few v-cards myself; I’ll be gentle.”

Robin lost it laughing.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!! I can’t deal with this shit right now!!” Steve yelled and grabbed his keys and a coat from the rack beside the door and he moved around Robin to leave.

“Hey, Steve, wait, hold on it was just a joke, I’m sorry. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Just!-… I need to go think.” He left, tucking himself into his beamer and going nowhere in particular. 

“Jesus.” Robin said. “What’d you do to the poor guy?” She turned to face Billy, but he’d just disappeared. Not really, but it seemed that way because he lunched behind the sofa when Steve pulled the door all the way open. 

“W-… where’d you go?”

Billy hopped back up carefully. “Just, uh, dropped something.”

“Have we met before? You look really familiar.”

“Well, funny story actually. How do I say this? I tried to kill you and Harrington and his kid friends when I was possessed by that monster.”

“…Huh…” Robin nodded and looked Billy over. “Didn’t you die?”

“Yeah but I’m fine now.”

“Okay, cool.”


	5. Chapter 5

“So, do you just live in my house now?” Steve got back home a couple hours later, slamming the door closed with his foot since his hands were busy carrying a few plastic bags. “Shouldn’t you be at your own place, letting Max know she’s not crazy?” He marched into the kitchen and started putting things away in their proper cabinets and cupboards. He didn’t go out with shopping in mind, but while he was out, he remembered he needed some things- had a list up on the fridge and everything, but obviously he didn’t take it with. Steve scoffed at himself as he glanced at his list, remembering the things he forgot as he read them. At least he got some junk food. 

“Hey, wait…” Steve carried the bag of snacks with him back into the den, “don’t you guys have to be invited in or something?”

Billy was sat on the couch, feet up on the coffee table watching tv, clearly not ashamed of making himself at home. “That’s just a myth.” He flicked to a new channel. 

Steve tossed Billy something from his goodie bag. “Don’t know your own phone number?”

“Can’t risk Neil or Susan answering.” He tore open the candy package with his teeth and took a bite.   
Steve watched him, unsure before that moment if he even ate food. “You call your parents their first names? Jesus Hargrove, and they don’t even know you’re alive?!”

Billy shot Steve a look that probably killed someone, something reminiscent of a face he’d make moments before swinging a sucker punch to their jaw, or a bat to the gut, or that one time a little pig sticker to the thigh before a knee to the nose. “Don’t.” He ground his teeth. “Make assumptions about things you know nothing about.”

“Jesus, sorry, calm down. Then why can’t you risk it?”

“I just can’t. Leave it at that.”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “Okay…” But he couldn’t just ‘leave it at that’. “Do you want me to call instead?”

Billy eyed him, suspicious of the intentions behind he offer. 

“Or, well, actually she’s probably with El, and they’re always with the boys. Those two have been inseparable since the fourth. You know what? Hold on.” Steve padded off and came back a few minutes later with a big handheld radio. He switched it on and pulled out the long antennae, then found the station in just a few seconds. “Hello, hello. Is anyone tuned in?” He sat down on the arm of the couch; feet curled into the crack of the couch cushion.

“Steve is that you?”

“Yeah, Dustin it’s me. Is Max around?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s in the other room, lemme go get her. Hold on.”

A moment passes.

“Hey Steve. What’s up? Dustin said you asked for me.”

“Are you alone?” Steve stole a glance at Billy, telling him that he knows. 

“Yeah I went to the other room. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just, uh,” Steve pursed his lips. He didn’t realize he needed to come up with a good reason for her to come over to his place by herself and how he was on the spot. 

Billy tossed the empty wrapper at Steve’s head hitting him in the nose. “Tell her you have my necklace.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” 

“I have Billy’s necklace.”

“W- How?” Max sounded like she was holding in her urgency.

“I f-found it on the road when I was on a walk.” Steve threw his hand up at Billy who sank his head comically. 

“Uh… well that’s… lucky.”

“I was hoping you’d want to come get it actually, since it means so much. It didn’t feel right just leaving it there.”

“Absolutely, I’m on my way right now.”

“And if you could come alone that’d be nice. I just don’t feel like dealing with the entire gang today.”

“I get it. I’ll be there soon. Over and out.”

“Guess you really can either be smart or pretty; not both.”

Steve just flicked him the bird.

The doorbell went off a lot sooner than either of them expected and Steve practically ran to the door and swung it wide open. The thing was, though, that she didn’t come alone like he’d hoped. El, decked out in one of her newest outfits she and Max picked out together, was stood next to her holding her hand. “H-hey, girls.” He said with a comically drawn out s sound. 

Billy had preemptively adjusted how he was sitting to avoid the light, and even slumped down onto himself, his “god damnit” strangled by the position made it to the girls’ ears. 

“Who’s that?” Max asked, not waiting for an answer, walking in, El in tow. 

Steve sighed and shut the door for them. What was going to happen next, he made an educated guess, was none of his business, family stuff, so he excused himself to the kitchen; just far enough away to be respectful but just close enough to eavesdrop because, quite frankly, he liked getting his nose in business that wasn’t his own. 

Max got around the front of the couch and saw her brother relaxing like there wasn’t anything wrong with what he was doing, and how casual he was only pissed her off even more. “You ASSHOLE!” She cocked back and landed her fist squarely on Billy’s jaw. 

El jumped back, hands over her mouth. 

Billy reeled, not quite believing what happened- not believing that Max had that in her. “What the FUCK Max???” He went to stand up and tower over her; his go-to intimidation tactic with anyone; using his mass. But Max wasn’t exactly small, and her attitude wasn’t either. 

She shoved him firmly against his chest making him fall back down on the couch. “What the hell is wrong with you!?!?” She punched him again, on the meat of his shoulder. “I’m your sister!” Again, on the chest, softer. “You let me think I was losing it!” In the stomach, softer yet. Again, and again, and again. 

Billy grabbed her wrists as she slowed down, her expression twisting from angry to hurt. He stood up and pulled her close, holding her head against his chest and combing her hair with his fingers, feeling her tears then spill onto his shirt. She was shaking like a leaf. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. And he was sorry- sorry that he subjected her to this. This feeling was all too familiar: the rage masking the pain, something he wore as a mask. “I should’ve left a note or something. I’m just staying over here at Harrington’s for a few days until he’s healed up enough to be on his own.” He loosened up and looked her in the eye. “Little baby can’t take the pain. He’s suffering so poorly I’m not sure he can even move around by himself.”

“Oh, shut up.” Steve could be clearly heard from the other room, dissolving any illusion that he wasn’t listening. 

Max smiled softly, wiping her face on her sleeve. Her freckles stood out more sharply on her red cheeks. “Do it again and I’ll destroy you.” The teeth behind her smile and her straining jaw muscles were far more threatening than what her tone tried to carry. She wasn’t remotely close to kidding.

“Sorry, El,” Max turned around. 

She was standing there eyeing the two of them carefully. While Eleven knew Max considerably more from their time hanging out together, she’d been inside Billy’s head. She isn’t quite sure where she stands, metaphorically of course. She didn’t know how much Max knew about Billy that she herself knew, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to know it. Both her and Billy had to reach out mentally for her to get inside his head like that, but there’s no telling if she dug too far or if Billy accidentally gave too much away. What she knows was very sensitive information and she was, as ridiculous as it seemed because of her power, a little afraid that Billy was angry with her invasion. 

It wasn’t a stretch to think he would be. He was a bull, just constantly pissed off and ready to square up to anything that got too close. She could probably take him, even with how diminished her powers were now, right? He wasn’t that strong without the flayer’s hold… She looked at his arms. Beefy. Also like a bull. El imagined him with horns. If he wasn’t from California and a certified surfer boy, she’d be sure he was a country boy through and through. He even had a little dirt on him. 

But the way Billy was looking at her now, eyes soft, almost vulnerable, he looked like Max, even if they weren’t related. They both had blue eyes, Eleven thought, maybe from being born near the water. 

“I know Billy hurt you,” Max offered her hand to Eleven, a bridge between them, “and you don’t have to forgive him, or even like him.” She clasped her hand around El’s and ran her thumb over the back of her hand. “But I promise he won’t ever lay a finger on you again.”

Eleven smiled softly and glanced up at Billy. “No, it’s not that, just…” She had no idea how much Max knew about Billy’s childhood. Well, he still was a child, really, a huge, angry child, but is high school all that far from middle school, and middle school from elementary? She decided if Max didn’t know anything, then it wasn’t her place to bring anything up, and if she did know, then it still wasn’t her place to bring it up, it being such a personal issue. “I’m just tired.” 

And that was true. She’d been very tired since the fourth, having used her powers to the absolute extent of her ability and for so long. She had no idea how long she’d be tired for, no one would. Except maybe Kali, but that was a bridge to cross later. Maybe more as well, she wasn’t quite sure how Billy was alive. Well common sense says that he’s alive because he survived the flayer’s attack, but Eleven had seen so much pain and death in the past few years that she was sure he’d died. People have a sort of glow when they’re alive, like you could somehow see the life each individual cell had, and when they died, they were so still, as motionless as stone, something indescribable changes. Dead people were unmistakable from living people. And Billy looked dead. But there he was standing in front of her. 

“I can imagine.” Max said, pulling El back out of her head. “Wanna go back to Dustin’s? He said his mom’s ordering pizza for dinner.”

“I’d like that.” 

Billy knew Eleven was smart, but to be so intuitive and mature so young was something that hurt to see. While he was glad that she picked up on him wanting to keep things quiet, he really hoped that she didn’t learn to read micro expressions and subtle body language the same way he did. He felt oddly protective of her now, be it from wanting to atone for trying to kill her, from leaving marks on her body, or because she reminded him of himself. He watched them leave, Max careful to crack the door only as far as she needed to slip out. Billy smiled, small and sincere, something rare to see. The kids are alright.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah two in a row after two weeks of nothing? sorry guys lmao work is killing me, anyway I'm hoping to get you at least a chapter a week from here on out, life willing, thank you for reading <3

“Hey Hargrove,” Steve shouted from the foyer, just getting home from work. “What if I told you I might know someone who could help with your whole… ‘sun’ deal?”

“I’d call bullshit but be intrigued.” Billy answered, suddenly just a few feet from Steve. 

“Jesus fuck,” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin, stumbling and knocking over the coat tree. 

Billy smirked. “Jumpy?” 

“Fuck off.” He grumbled. It occurred to Steve that he didn’t know really anything about what powers Billy might have. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end just thinking about it. 

“Smooth,” another voice came from the other side of the door. Robin walked in then, only moments behind Steve because she stopped in his driveway to examine several interesting looking rocks, which were now in her pocket.

“Robin, right?” Billy remembered Steve calling her that the other day.

“Yeah, and you’re, shit, was it Hargrove?”

“Billy.”

“Oh I get it, so you two are doing that whole thing where you only call each other by last names, for… whatever reason.”

“Because I don’t like him.” Steve almost shoved past Billy to get into his own home, currently invaded by the grossest man on earth. 

Robin made a face. Sure, letting him live with you and not just tolerating him, but actively trying to help him, really seemed like he hated him. 

“I’m just being rude,” Billy watched Steve beeline to his bedroom, probably to change out of his work clothes. He wasn’t really being rude, just a little jab at Steve. He called him Harrington because Steve called him Hargrove, just mirroring him. “So he mentions a sun solution and runs away.” Billy said, suddenly in the den. 

Robin jumped, just a little, not expecting Billy to be so fast, and quiet, and invited herself into the place fully. “Well, I think that was his way of welcoming me in.” She flopped down onto the armchair beside the couch Billy seemed to be very fond of. 

“How so?”

“I’m a witch.” She shrugged.

Billy met her gaze. “For real?”

“I mean yeah I’m a lesbian,” she joked, deadpan. 

Billy nodded. “Cool.”

“Steve tried to bring up the topic at work and him trying to be subtle is…” she sighed, “just terrible.”

“I asked if you knew anything about magic.” Steve thumped gracelessly down the stairs. 

“But what did you actually say?”

“…”

Billy and Robin grinned, looking right at him, waiting for the answer.

“So… vampires huh?”

“So, vampires, huh.” Robin confirmed, laughing at him. 

“Wow.” Billy had no words.

“Anyway!” Steve shoved Billy, making room on his couch for his damn self. 

“Yeah, okay, so we got to talking and, frankly, I’ve never heard of something like a daylight charm before, but I’m relatively inexperienced. I’ll have to reach out to the coven and see what they know.”

“Coven???”

“Yeah, guy, you can’t just announce to everyone that, hey, I practice witchcraft. Do you want to be my teacher, or my apprentice? It can’t exactly be a public and in-your-face club. We gotta secretly teach and learn using books written by our fellow witches passed down by generations. A coven is what a group of witches is called.” 

“Are you all lesbians?” Billy cocked his head. 

Steve shot him a wide-eyed look, more that surprised that he knew Robin liked girls. 

“That’s your question?” 

He shrugged. 

“Do you want a funny answer or a real answer?”

Steve said funny ad Billy said real at the same time. 

“Okay, the real answer is that, like witchcraft and paganism, minorities of sexual orientation, gender, race, and ability are looked down on, shunned, and even actively hunted down and killed because of white Christian supremacy running entirely unchecked in America and most of the western world. So, yes there is a lot of overlap between witches and lesbians, since it’s a safe space, a small community where you’re free to be yourself in a completely judgement-free place. The funny answer is ya.”

Billy was nodding along, understanding exactly what she was saying. He’d known he was gay for years, since long before he came to Hawkins. He wasn’t new to the concept of needing to be silent to be safe.   
Steve, however, though eager to support Robin, looked pretty lost. He understood most of those words separately but moved on from the matter. He got his funny answer.

“Okay cool, so like do you need to borrow my phone or what?”

“Well, there’s the bad news. This communication is going to be by mail.”

“Jesus Christ.” Billy muttered. Just his luck. 

“Okay, just keep us updated, I guess. And definitely tell me more about what you know right now though. This is very cool.” Steve leant forward in his seat. “Can you do like curses and shit? Have you ever sacrificed a baby?”

Robin looked at him like he just asked her if she ever killed a baby, since, he just did, in complete disbelief of what she just heard. “Dude.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for graphic description of self harm/suicide attempt

Billy had been feeling cooped up, restless, being stuck here in this barren house for two weeks now having nothing to fucking do until the sun goes down, which isn’t until after nine at night, by which time everything in Hawkins was long dead. This city is fast asleep after office hours; it was ridiculous and just another thing he missed about California.

It was more than the fact that California never slept though… he missed the heat, the energy, his old friends, this one junk food truck that came to the pier every Tuesday and Thursday evening that had the best cotton candy stuff that tasted like fresh real raspberries, the community he’d so carefully found and knitted himself into, the ocean, the smell of the sea air, the sound of the waves and the gulls, surfing, though… not so much that actually. A year or so after his mom left, he fell out of the habit- the memory of her made the water burn. 

He’d only experienced freshwater swimming at the quarry here in Hawkins, and it was nice; the low salinity didn’t hurt his eyes or nose if he got some water in it, but it was harder to just lie back and float because of that too, and it just wasn’t the same. The chlorine in the pool was closer to the ocean but no pool was big enough to feel the same. The vastness of the ocean was… trying to comprehend it made him feel some sort of liminality. 

He peered out of the sliding glass doors in Steve’s den and dimly lit in the backyard was a pool. Eyeing it made him feel strange; his job at the Hawkins community pool is what almost killed him really. Well, that and his tasteless flirting with Mrs. Wheeler, now that was a trick and a half. He hated having to lie and pretend to be something he wasn’t, just to keep safe. 

Sure, it was fun to flirt, make girls feel good about themselves. What’s the harm? Actually having sex with them to keep the façade? Not great, but he’s a teenage boy and being overly horny all the time was basically a defining trait. If few girls gossip to their friends about how he’s an animal in bed, ‘life changing’ was used once, cements his position as womanizer and no one’s the wiser. But here he had no community… he didn’t have a safe place to talk with other gay people, to relax and be who he is without any fear. It was constant fear here. His guard was up every second of every day, and it was draining, which is why he was more aggressive than normal, he had no energy to be patient or kind, he just snapped. 

When he was 13, he kissed a boy for the first time. Some other kids saw, and word got back to Neil, and that was the first time Billy truly thought he would die. In between slurs and yelling about ‘no son of mine’, blows landed repeatedly all over, harder than they’d ever been before, not just one-off slaps or cuffs to the back of the head; this was pure rage. He was a child. 

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll cut that faggot shit out yesterday or I’ll really give you something to cry about!” 

His nose and lip were bleeding, one eye swollen shut; it hurt to badly to breathe that he felt like he was suffocating for days. He peed blood. 

No one ever mentioned it again, not at home, not at school. He never saw the boy again after that day. He assumed they moved. When he got older, he hoped they moved. If Neil could nearly kill him over it and not get in an ounce of trouble, it would stand to reason that another father could kill his kid… right? He’d heard other horror stories in the back of an unmarked gay bar every few days in an alley with a group of survivors he called friends. 

Billy absently ran his fingers across some of his chest, tracing long faded scars and long healed bruises. He found the ridge of a flayer scar and it pulled him out of his memories. He pulled the collar of his shirt out and looked down at the gnarled ridges where those massive teeth dug into him. Even as a supernatural creature himself, he came very close to death. 

He didn’t learn much about being a vampire from his sire before they left. They both though they had more time. He knows that cutting his head off would kill him, and the sun, and the stake thing is true, but it has to be blessed by a person of religious standing like a priest, imam, rabbi or the like. He had no idea about fire or gunshot wounds, or anything else, but he wasn’t keen on finding out. 

Billy pulled his shirt off completely and looked at the many other flayer scars and felt them too. He had to admit they looked pretty cool and distracted from the other, smaller scars people used to ask him about; the ones Neil gave him, the ones he gave himself, be it from picking fights in hopes someone hurt him, or a razor, or a lighter, or a piece of broken mirror once. 

That one was on his inner thigh. That time he tried to kill himself. He’d learned about the femoral artery in freshman anatomy and he though it’d be less obvious than his neck or wrist, right? He was still scared. He figured that when he was found dead next to a broken mirror it’d be assumed that it was a freak accident. 

Only thing is he didn’t die. He shattered the mirror, picked out a big shard, made his peace, and pulled it up against his upper inner thigh, through the skin and muscle. He didn’t know Neil was home. He barged in only a second or two after he cut himself. The muscle and fat seemed to spill out of him, and the blood beaded up from the meat of it, slowly, and all at once gushing out of him. He hadn’t cut deep enough. 

Billy, such a scrawny thing back then, white as a sheet looked up at Neil, surrounded by broken glass and a pool of candy red blood. In that moment he was more afraid of the consequences for breaking something and staining the carpet than he was of dying. 

“What did you do? You fucking idiot what did you do!?” Neil had yelled. 

Apparently, it was less obvious than his neck or wrists, or maybe Neil was just that stupid because he never realized it was a suicide attempt; thought it was an accident, that Billy kicked the mirror while moving around or something. 

Billy slid open the door to the backyard and approached the pool. In-ground, underwater lights, heated, diving board, mosaic tile. It was very nice, would be slightly nicer if a girl didn’t die in it, but hey nothing’s perfect. He hiked his pants down and hopped in for a swim, baby blue boxer briefs tight on his skin, only barely covering his scar. 

Billy swam laps until his shoulders ached, which didn’t take as long as he thought, from lack of exercise. His weights were at the house, there wasn’t a gym here, and he was too stubborn to take it upon himself to go running or use the pool like he was now, which was stupid. He was punishing himself again, and he had just a bouquet of reasons to chose from. 

He stopped in the deep end, held his breath, and dove under the surface for a minute, letting the water relax him. He opened his eyes and watched the silvery surface of the water, still disturbed from his jumping in, and for a moment he tried to pretend he was back at the beach in California, that he was a little kid and learning to hold his breath for long in case a rip tide caught him or the undercurrent got him when he was surfing. 

He exhaled slow, watching the bubbles shoot to the surface like they were racing, shoving each other back and forth trying to get to the top like their little lives depended on it. With that, he kicked up, chasing his bubbles, took a deep breath of that fresh night air, and floated on his back. 

Steve came home disheveled from a frustrating day at work, holding a duffel bag of clothes and stuff Max gave to him to give to Billy. He’d asked why she can’t give it to him herself and she said that she was too busy and only barely managed to make time to bring it to the rental place. It reeked like that cologne Billy wore way too much of and cigarettes, which was a headache-inducing combination when in a confined space like his car for the entire fifteen-minute drive home. 

He sighed and trudged to the stairs, every intention on flopping down into bed and going comatose for a week, but a cool breeze caught his attention. The back door was wide open, letting every bug on Earth invite itself in. “Hargrove?” Steve called out, stepping over shoes and a shirt in the middle of the doorway, “Jesus, were you raised in a bar-?” Steve saw Billy lazily floating around the surface of the water, arms stretched out wide. 

Steve was entranced and felt a blush creep up onto his cheeks. This was something so obviously intimate that Steve felt sure he was intruding on Billy, like he walked in on him in the shower or something. Billy mustn’t’ve heard Steve with his ears under the water.

He wasn’t being a creep, not intentionally anyway, but Billy looked so pretty in the water; he looked… peaceful. His guard was completely down, aggressive walls nowhere to be seen. He approached the pool and dropped the duffel by the edge before taking his socks and shoes off, rolling his jeans up enough to sit on the edge of the pool to dip his feet in. It was lovely, even more so that the air was cool with the sun far over the horizon. 

Billy, swimming with his eyes closed, deep in his own thoughts, head half underwater, really hadn’t heard Steve at all. It didn’t help that he wasn’t expecting anyone to be out there, so he wasn’t listening for anyone. He pulled his arm up and over, a long fluid stroke, trying to stretch his shoulders out and loosen up that stress tension. One, two, three more of those and his hand was saved from slamming down flat onto the concrete pool edge, by slamming down on Steve’s knee. 

“Ow-” Steve wasn’t expecting that, and the metal ring stung.

Billy immediately opened his eyes and shot upright, a little freaked out himself, but four horses pulling ropes attached to his wrists and ankles couldn’t get that confession out of him. “How long have you been there?” Billy reeled. 

“Maybe a minute or so. I didn’t wanna bother you; you seemed so relaxed.”

“…What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, Max packed you some clean clothes and some other stuff, and definitely a carton of cigarettes because this thing just reeks.” 

“Thanks.” Billy looked at Steve. He was wearing some yellow and blue button up he hadn’t seen before. Yellow suited him. 

Billy made a face. Why wasn’t he kicking him out? Bringing him clothes, being nice and considerate like Billy hadn’t tried to kill him, recently, like he wasn’t intruding on his space, doing nothing to earn his keep. 

Steve was the caretaker type, from what he’s noticed, though… If it wasn’t proof enough that his closest friends are a gaggle of middle schoolers, the fact that he’s truly considerate threw Billy off. He wasn’t used to condition-less kindness. It was throwing him off. Billy licked his lips and splashed Steve. 

“Hey! This shirt is new, jerk. Chlorine bleaches.”

“Does it?”

“It does… Doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know. Take it off if you’re so worried. Come in, it’s nice.” Billy splashed him again. 

Steve balked. He knew it was nice; it was his pool… Fuck it. He took his shirt off, pulled his jeans off, and hopped in. 

“If I owned a pool, I’d be in it every damn day.” Billy said. 

“Do a lot of swimming out in California?” Steve shook his hair out of his face. 

“I lived on the beach, so, yeah, all the time.”

“Why’d you guys leave then?”

Billy sucked his teeth. “Neil got a new job.” Trite. 

Steve got that tone loud and clear, stay away from that topic. “Alright, well consider this an invitation to come use my pool whenever; how’s that sound?” 

“Oh, aren’t you a beacon of generosity.” Billy clasped his hands together and shoved his hands against the water in practiced ease, making a huge splash aimed right at Steve’s face.

“Hey!” Steve smiled and wiped his face. “I’m the king, haven’t you heard? And a just king is generous to his subjects.”

“Of course, but sharing your castle with the riff raff?”

“W- it’s not my castle.”

Billy made a face. Steve and he were the only ones that’ve been in the house in at least the last couple weeks. “No siblings,”

Steve shook his head.

“No parents,”

“I have parents, Hargrove, they’re just off on a conference.” Steve floated up onto his back. “Like always.” 

Billy looked at him. There was the reason he made himself unofficial part time caretaker for a gaggle of middle schoolers. He was lonely, and missed his parents, or at least the idea of them. Billy can’t imagine that he has very good parents, leaving him alone all the time. Hm, well if Billy was good at anything, it was getting his mind off things bothering him, so he’ll help Steve.

“Hey, pretty boy.” Billy treaded over to Steve and looked down at him. Steve looked at him, just waiting for him to call him a little bitch or something. 

Instead, Billy laid his hand firmly in the center of Steve’s chest and pushed him straight down under the water, then scrambled to get far away. 

“Dick!” Steve coughed as he resurfaced and lunged towards Billy, trying to grab him and push him under too. 

Billy laughed and kicked off the wall, swimming away, but Steve grabbed his ankle and pulled him back, then splashed at his face while Billy tried to twist free of his grasp. Steve was stronger than he looked. Billy pushed his legs down, like he was going to stand up, and it pulled Steve down, giving him more than enough room to push him under the water again.

Steve laughed and shouted some expletive Billy didn’t hear, because he was stunned at his smile. Billy didn’t think he’d seen Steve genuinely smile before. He jumped forward and pushed Billy’s shoulders down, dunking him under. Billy didn’t bother surfacing, instead swam a bit away first, trying to get behind Steve to surprise him. The fact that the pool was lit and the water was clear as glass meant this didn’t work though, because as he pulled up to push Steve under again, he just turned around and used Billy’s weight against him, getting him back under as he barely got a breath in. 

Billy legs, all muscle, were more than strong enough, even with no air, to propel him to the other end of the pool with one push. In the shallow end, he could touch the bottom, giving his weight the advantage unlike in the deep end. He panted as he surfaced, needing a second to catch his breath, but when he turned around, Steve wasn’t there. 

“Stev-” He started, but then a huge splash drove right into his face. Apparently, Steve was smarter than he looked too, because he just stayed on Billy’s heels as he moved and sat on the bottom right in front of him and just waited for him to turn around. 

They were both laughing, caught up in this little spur of the moment dunking game, and Steve grabbed Billy’s shoulders. “Any last words?”

Billy’s backed into the corner, but he isn’t trapped, he could push Steve away, or hop out of the pool, or kick him in the jewels if he really wanted to get away, but Billy just stared at Steve’s eyes. The one that was busted was almost completely healed, just a little yellow underneath still, and his eyebrow was well on its way. Some voice deep in his mind said, ‘drown me, kill me’. He could feel Steve’s breath on his skin, and he was so warm, it almost felt like he was burning him. 

Steve realized how close they were. He could count Billy’s eyelashes. But he didn’t move. He’s… not as mean and violent as he thought he was. Billy’s actually sweet and gentle, and maybe Steve was feeling lonely and a little lost and maybe Billy was a little desperate for emotional connection and just so tired of pretending and maybe the both of them are just a little drunk on the late summer like the end of something was near and they were running out of time and maybe Billy knew that either something good would happen and give him a reason to stay or something bad would happen and give him a reason to leave.

So. Billy closed the gap between them and kissed Steve.

Steve froze, eyes wide open in shock, unable to process what was happening. 

Billy felt Steve react by not reacting, and he pulled away. Just a few seconds, he thought. It was a nice few seconds, pretending everything would be fine. He braced for a fist to his face. But it never came.

Steve leant forward and kissed him back. 

As soon as Steve’s lips met his own, Billy felt like the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders, like he let go of something he didn’t even know he was carrying. It was so overwhelming he didn’t even feel two hot tears pour over his cheeks. Anything better than a broken nose and getting called a faggot would’ve been a win for him, but this was a godsend, a miracle he didn’t know he needed. He grabbed Steve and pulled him close, hands framing his face. He tasted like raspberry cotton candy. 

When they pulled apart, they were both bright red, in their blushing cheeks, in their lips. Steve didn’t seem like the chapstick kind of guy, but lips that soft didn’t just happen. 

“I, um,” Steve swallowed.

“Sorry.” Billy started to close himself off again. 

“No! No- I mean, don’t be it’s, shit,” He was struggling to find the words as a thousand different thoughts whizzed though his head. Sure, Steve always knew he was a little gay at least; straight boys don’t find other boys attractive.

He just never thought he’d be kissing Billy fucking Hargrove, who seemed like the most hypermasculine straight guy with his over the top flirting and arrogance. Steve paused, maybe that was a clue, overacting. Huh. Oh god what would his parents think, what would his friends think, what if he got the shit beat out of him, what if his parents kicked him out, what if he was out on the street? 

He had no idea how to do anything, he didn’t have any money to get a motel or an apartment, he didn’t even know how to go about getting an apartment. Oh god what if it got out and no one would even rent to him. Great so he was homeless and an outcast and penniless and going to die alone in a-

“Harrington?” Billy saw the panic in his eyes. 

“Ah fuck… fuck!” Steve climbed out of the pool and shivered, ignoring his clothes and heading for the house, the air was like ice on his hot skin. His life could be over, it’s just a matter of time, right? What was he going to do? Jesus Christ, he liked Billy fucking Hargrove, hyper aggressive douche vampire extraordinaire who apparently has a fetish for pain. 

“Harrington?” A little more urgent as Steve scurried away. “Steve!”

That caught his attention. He turned around and saw Billy in the same spot he left him, fear plastered on his face, all color drained from it. He was terrified too. 

“I’m-” Steve walked back towards him and then turned and paced away again, then turned back again, and just kept pacing, which only made him colder. “I’m-”

“Overthinking?”

“Well, I mean yeah!”

“Oh… am I the first guy you’ve ever kissed?” Billy hopped out and sat on the edge of the pool, like he was getting ready to run.

“Well, obviously!”

Billy frowned. 

“I did- I didn’t mean it like that- wait, so, you’ve kissed other guys?”

“Yeah… I’m gay.” Saying that out loud felt like he was shattering glass, a mirror. He had said that out loud maybe a handful of times in his life. 

Steve exhaled sharply and was silent for a moment. “Can we continue this conversation inside? I’m freezing.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Billy stood up, circled around to grab the duffel bag and Steve’s clothes, and followed him inside. Only then was the door finally closed. 

Steve grabbed a towel for him and Billy and dried himself off quickly, stuffing himself in his plush bath robe.

Billy was sat on the edge of the coffee table, knees together, elbows rested on them and biting his nail.   
“So, like… what does this mean?” Steve handed Billy the towel. 

“I don’t understand the question.” Billy just draped the towel around his shoulders and let himself be cold.

“I don’t know how this works; I’ve never done this before.” Steve picked at the hem of his robe.

“It works like any other time two people have kissed. You either want to do it again, or you don’t.” Billy looked at the floor, suddenly very interested in the fibers of the carpet.

“Yeah, okay uh, hey.” Steve caught his gaze, then stepped forward and gave him a chaste peck on the corner of his mouth. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Billy laughed a little, then toweled off his hair.

“D’you wanna see a movie or something?”


	8. Chapter 8

Billy didn’t care that much about whatever movie they saw that week, if Steve wanted to go to the diner and have breakfast for dinner even though Billy hated breakfast foods, or if they stayed in and did absolutely nothing, because honestly there wasn’t much else to choose from. There hadn’t been any news from Robin yet and even though it was pushing September, the days just kept dragging on, keeping Billy stuck inside. At least with it being late when they went out, they hadn’t bumped into anyone they knew. Well, with small towns, everyone knew everyone in some way or another, but they were specifically worried about their friends and family. The night added some level of anonymity.

Steve had finally budged on letting Billy drive; it was the least he could do after t-boning his Camaro into scrap. He’d finally gotten over any anxiety about what his father would do if Billy had wrecked the car, deciding he didn’t care, and he didn’t believe Billy would wreck it even if he wanted to. He was a wild driver, absolutely, complete disregard for speed limits, traffic signs, and road markings, but he never got into an accident before. He put off his blasé vibe, but really Billy was only like that when no one else was on the road. In town, he was the picture-perfect driver, but as soon as they were out of sight Billy hammered on the gas. He was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. 

When Billy pulled into Steve’s driveway at nearly midnight their smiles fell, and Billy pulled his hand off Steve’s knee. There was another car here; something looking fresh off the assembly line and Billy didn’t have to ask who it was. 

Steve was visibly tense, sitting still, staring off into space as Billy killed the engine, got out, and walked around to open the door for him. 

“C’mon.” Billy motioned with his head. Truth be told, he was interested in meeting the people who made Steve, wondered what they were like. Good thing he was wearing something halfway decent. 

Steve opened the front door and grimaced, already knowing the first words his mother would say to him. He motioned for Billy to stay outside for a moment. The house was a mess. It looked like two teenage boys were living there unsupervised for weeks. Who could guess why. 

“Did we raise you in a barn?” His mother was standing in the foyer, arms crossed, tapping her red bottom heels on the tile. 

“I wasn’t expecting you guys.”

“It’s just me. Your father didn’t want to fly back with me to find the file he forgot. Why does the house look like a tornado flew through it?” 

Her hair was in a perfect bouffant and her dress was pressed. She looked nothing like she just flew 10 hours and drove however much more. 

“Oh, funny story, I have a friend over. He’s been staying for a few days-”

“What happened to your face?!” She only then noticed the scars, stepping forward to examine him.

“I’m fine mom-”

“Did you get into another fight? Steve, I can’t believe you. How many times do your father and I have to tell you that violence doesn’t solve anything?” She picked his chin up and turned his head side to side, getting a good look at him. “At least you had the brains to go to a doctor.” She noted the tiny dots around his eyebrow scar, spelling out stitches. She pursed her lips and gently ran her finger over the permanent imperfection on his lip. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really.” He mumbled. Considering it healed a long ass time ago. 

“Don’t mumble.”

“Not really.”

“Well that’s good. Now clean up this mess while I find that file. I have no idea where your father put it and of course he wouldn’t come back with me. Something about not trusting Italians, honestly that man,” she trailed off as she walked down to the study. 

Steve sighed and bent over to pick up the first thing in front of him. One of their shirts, he didn’t know whose and didn’t care to look closer at the moment. It didn’t matter, just get it in a hamper or in the laundry room. The shoes in the middle of the walkway should be on the rack, the sweaters on the bench should be hung up, the plastic bag should be in the garbage along with the wrappers and paper plates on the coffee table, the dishes needed to be washed, the carpet vacuumed, the kitchen and hall swept and mopped. Steve made a long list in his head and zoned into cleaning mode. 

Billy slinked inside after he heard Steve’s mom clack away and watched as Steve completely changed personalities from the one he had just a few minutes ago. He supposed it had gotten a bit messy in recent days, but they were on a sort of vacation. Billy considered staying out of sight, but he didn’t want his first impression from Steve’s mother to be that he was an inconsiderate slob. He didn’t give much of a damn about what other people thought, but it mattered what Steve thought. 

He took the fistful of garbage out of Steve’s hand and the dishes off the table and brought it to the kitchen garbage under the sink. Steve’s mother must’ve been quite the control freak judging by the number of tiny adjustments he was making to things Billy wouldn’t’ve noticed or even cared about.  
He was adjusting the pillows, the afghans, the runner, the lamps on the end tables, the tables themselves, the spot the remote was sat on the coffee table. 

Billy started the water in the sink and plugged the drain. Dishes were something he could do, take a little weight off Steve. Of course it was right as he started sudsing up the first few plates that Steve’s mother found what she was looking for and came out with a big brown trapper keeper and several smaller manila folders in a pile under her arm. 

“Oh, Steve look at your friend. You should take a page from his book.” She smiled. 

Billy dried his hands and held one out to her. “Mrs. Harrington, I’m Billy Hargrove, Steve’s friend. Sorry about the mess; you know boys.” He offered up one of his overly flirty smiles. 

“My, good manners too,” she shook his hand, “much better than that Tommy boy you’re always hanging out with.”

Steve sighed again, “mom…” He went into the kitchen.

“What?” She said sharply, like an accusation. 

“… How long are you going to be this time?”

Billy turned away awkwardly and tried to ignore what was clearly a personal conversation he had no business being in. 

“Stevie hon, you know I have no way of knowing how long these things take. Hey, hey, you have your friend here to keep you company. He can stay as long as he likes, especially if he can manage to rub off on you a little-”

Billy choked on his own spit and coughed. Steve gave him a wide-eyed look like come on. 

“And I heard about the explosion at the mall, so you can also spend some time finding a new job.” She smiled sweetly, meaning well. 

“Yeah, yeah sounds great, mom.” Steve didn’t want to mention his new job at the family video because he didn’t want the conversation to continue. Every other conversation with his parents was like this, the pretending to care, acting like they know anything about him, like they raised him, artificial intimacy he called it in his head. 

“Love you sweetie.” She kissed his forehead and beelined for the door. 

Steve and Billy stood there in awkward silence, listening to the car door open and close, the engine start, the car pull out of the driveway, and take off. Steve sighed for the fiftieth time in the last ten minutes and floated up the stairs to his room and shut the door tight. 

Billy was no stranger to bad parents, obviously, so he let Steve be. He took his time finishing the dishes, cleaned out the sink, dried the dishes, snooped around to find where to put them away properly, wiped down the counter, scrubbed the stove, and cleaned the window over the sink. “Washing the dishes means cleaning the sink and stove and the area around the sink, you lazy brat!” Neil’s voice echoed in his ears. 

He wrung out the rag and draped up over the sink divider and hung the dish towel over the oven handle, no need for either to get mildewed. Then, he went upstairs and knocked on Steve’s door. 

“Hey,” Billy said just loud enough for Steve to hear on the other side, “can I come in?”

“Yeah.” A mumbled reply. 

Billy pushed the door open and what hit him first was that jarring wallpaper. “So, this is what your room looks like.” It didn’t look anything like what he’d pictured. Half the available wall space was plastered in photos and posters, drawings the kids had given him, tickets from places he’d been, birthday cards, stickers, sticky notes with reminders and labels, and just cluttered to beat hell. One of the walls was spotless though, like the floor. The carpeting was push and caramel colored, immaculately clean. His bed was made so well it looked like it was never used before; the bed set itself was green and yellow with splotches of blue. His closet door was half open and from his spot in the doorway, Billy could see both shirts and pants hung up and a slightly overflowing hamper. He thought he could see Steve’s old Scoops Ahoy hat behind the hamper, but it could’ve just as well been a blue and white shirt or something. 

“Your bedroom is the size of my living room.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m rich.”

“You’re a rich little pretty boy.” Billy flopped down into Steve’s bed, messing it up, and made himself comfy. It was a nice mattress. 

“As you’ve said.” Steve was slumped down in his plush desk chair, looking off into space. 

“Mom always like that?”

“Controlling and distant at the same time? Yeah, dad’s even worse though. Nothing is ever good enough for him.” Steve looked at Billy making a mess of his quilt and pillows. “It’s nice having the place to myself for the most part. It’s like I’m a full-grown person making my own way, but I remember dad pays for everything and makes me feel bad when I ask for things. And it really seems like this isn’t even their house y’know? They use this place like a locker at a waterpark. It’s just storage, a pit stop where they pop in when they need something then take off again to actually live their life somewhere else. Sometimes I wish I had normal parents, like everyone else.”

Billy had to keep himself from scoffing. 

“What are your parents like?” Steve looked at him. There was something in his eyes, like he was looking for the answer to a completely different question he couldn’t ask, because he didn’t know what it was. 

Billy couldn’t not reciprocate. “I haven’t seen my mom since I was eleven. She left. Disappeared overnight and I never heard from her again. Susan is Max’s mother. She’s nice enough, doesn’t raise her voice. She’s a quiet person. Neil is…” Billy tried to think of the right words. How could he just up and say he was abused? He couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it, and Steve was looking for something to help him, a confession like that would make Steve think about Billy instead of himself. “an asshole.” He settled on.

Steve seemed to take that answer and he sat still for a moment, then got up and laid down on his bed next to Billy. “Budge over.” He was tired before he even got home, but now he was just exhausted, and he wasn’t going to say no to a very willing cuddle partner. Billy may be shredded, built like a brick shithouse, but when he wasn’t posturing, trying to intimidate literally everyone, when he was relaxed, he was really soft and warm. Steve kicked off his jeans and wrestled his quilt out from under Billy. It would’ve been much easier for both of them to stand up first, but Steve was adamant on not being vertical until tomorrow. 

Billy smiled and shook his head, finally rolling over and giving up the quilt, and took his own pants off. Now, normally he slept naked; it was just more comfortable that way, but he didn’t want to spook Steve. He was a patient man. Boxers and t shirts were just the way it was going to be. 

Steve took a minute to get comfortable while Billy took all of two seconds to slide up next to him and give him a sleepy kiss. Billy splayed out on his back and closed his eyes. He had to figure out what kind of mattress this was and get one for himself; it was like heaven. A moment of silence passed, and Billy was about to pass out, but then Steve shuffled again, and Billy would’ve scowled, hoping Steve wasn’t a wild sleeper, but he wasn’t moving to readjust. Steve was moving to get Billy’s arm around him so he could lay his head on his shoulder and slot right up against him. Sap. Billy just smiled so faintly and breathed in the smell of Steve’s earthy shampoo. He conked out quickly after that.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve snapped awake with a start, heart racing, and it took a second to calm down and focus on the fact that it was a nightmare, and that the mind flayer was dead. There was a large, muscly arm wrapped around him anchoring him to the firm chest behind him, radiating ungodly amounts of heat. Steve managed to shift a little, getting Billy’s arm that was under him into a different spot. 

From behind his charcoal curtains, he could see the sun was rising, and the time was confirmed by the weakly glowing clock on his desk across the room. Quarter after six. His internal clock was forever altered after middle and high school, every day having to be up at seven a.m., so it was perfect that there was no way he’d be able to get back to sleep in time for him to enjoy any more rest before his bastard brain woke him up again. 

Steve let his mind go blank for a moment and he just listened to their slow breathing, feeling Billy’s chest rise and fall, his breath warm on his ear. If he wasn’t this close to sweating to death, he’d stay there forever. 

He groaned and pulled himself out of the bed. Billy must’ve been a heavy sleeper, because he didn’t move a muscle. Steve got up on his tippy toes and stretched himself tall, arms as far above his head as he could manage and let out one of the deepest-seated yawns he’d ever had; he nearly fell over. Something was different about this morning; he was calmer than he’d been since before he first learned about the upside down. ‘It’s because Billy’s here.’ He thought and rolled his eyes; god could that’ve been any cheesier. 

Then, he decided to start his day. Quick shower, brushed his teeth- in the shower of course, where he also relieved himself, king of multitasking. Then he spent a solid hour drying and styling his hair, at which point he really wondered if he was posturing for Billy’s sake. Sure, he normally took forever to make sure his hair was perfect, because honestly his hair was half of his personality, but lately he hadn’t been himself. Since he graduated and became friends with Robin and he, even just slightly, distanced himself from high school, it seemed less and less important to be the person he curated to get attention in school. Or maybe he was just jealous that Billy’s hair was effortlessly perfect. Jury’s still out. 

After getting dressed in something lazy and comfortable, Steve went downstairs and made himself some breakfast. In doing so, he noticed the dishes were all washed and put away and the stove was sparkling. 

“Jeez,” he breathed. The picture of Billy doing this while he was upstairs moping made his chest ache. It was really thoughtful of him. Steve took out twice as many eggs as he needed. He had no idea when Billy might wake up, but he made him breakfast all the same and put his plate in the microwave and attached a note to the front, so he’d find it. 

His last au pair he had, before his parents decided he was old enough to be left home alone, taught him most of the basics of housekeeping and the like; how to cook common things, what cleaners not to mix, to separate your whites and colors when washing so they don’t bleed. Making fluffy eggs was one thing he took great pride in, even if it seemed a little silly, it was one thing he knew he did well. 

After eating, he took a second cup of coffee and the afghan off the couch he wasn’t supposed to touch and went out onto the veranda. A morning this chilly was unusual for late August around here, but he appreciated the break in the muggy heat. Maybe there was a storm coming, looking at the thick dark clouds, or maybe fall was just settling in earlier this year. In any case, he curled up under that afghan on a wicker chair and enjoyed the peace and quiet before the chaos of the day would set in. 

Around eleven, Billy finally woke up and he swore at himself. He was a late riser for sure, but this was a little ridiculous. His morning routine, unbeknownst to him, was the exact same as Steve’s: multitasking shower, spending too long on his hair, get dressed, and make for the kitchen. 

The first thing he saw was the half full carafe of ice-cold coffee, but when he went to microwave it, he saw the note and found the eggs and bacon left there for him, and it made him smile. He might get all the nutrients he needs from blood, but that didn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy, and even love, normal food. Truth be told, he would’ve rather had Steve wake him up so he could enjoy it fresh, but this was nice. 

Billy wolfed it down like his life depended on it and frowned at his empty plate like it was its fault for running out in ten seconds flat, but instead of starting a fight with porcelain, he cleaned it and found his duffel bag he left on the floor of the den. 

Max knew him well. He cradled the carton of cigarettes like a baby before tearing into it and whipping one out. He’d ran out the day before yesterday and he was getting close to making that someone else’s problem in a major way. His long first drag hit him and he felt that anger melt away; sweet, sweet nicotine catharsis is thy name. Max had even packed his favorite pair of jeans and several of his favorite shirts. He made a mental note to thank her later, and to have a serious conversation about something he didn’t really want to think about right now. 

The doorbell rang as he was hiking his pants up and he didn’t even bother zipping up his fly before answering the door. 

“Gross.” Was the first thing out of Robin’s mouth, no hello. 

True, a damp, half naked, blonde barbie borderline fellating a cigarette wasn’t everyone’s idea of heaven, but Billy’s head was so far up his ego’s ass he didn’t bother thinking otherwise. 

“Take it all in. I know. It can be overwhelming.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and pushed him aside to let herself in. “Steve home?”

“Left a note, he’s with the kids. What’s up?”

Robin pulled a few things out of her messenger bag. “I got news.”

She explained that she finally got in contact with someone who had experience with vampires and that she could more than likely get her hands on what she needs to make a new charm. “All I need is some of your blood,” she handed him a piece of black cloth, “and a little doodad that means something to you.”

“Doodad?”

“Y’know like a bauble or a trinket or talisman. Just a little item that you have a connection with that she’ll make the thingy out of.”

Very scientific, Billy thought. “And this?” He held up the cloth.

“Oh that’s how she’ll get the blood. See it’s the only way to get it through the mail and not raise a hundred red flags, since blood is a biohazard.”

He made a face. Well, if it works, it works. He brought his hand up to his mouth and didn’t hesitate to clamp down and tear a little to really get the blood flowing.

Robin jumped a little, not expecting that. 

He did hesitate on a talisman though. His necklace had meant a lot to him. His mom gave it to him when he was little to watch over him and keep him safe from harm. 

“I, uh,” he handed her the wet cloth and she grimaced. “Can I get back to you with the… thingy?”

“Yeah, of course, just be quick about it. The sooner I can send this out, the sooner you can get your charm and leave. Which is all you want anyway, right?” That last bit she said more like an insult than a question. 

It was true, still is, he wanted to escape so many things here, but there were just as many reasons to stay as there were to run now, and he would be lying if he said he had any clue what he was going to do. He needed to apologize to so many people too, and if he stayed, he’d have to. He didn’t know if he was capable of being a good person. Every time Steve looked at him with that smile just for him, or held his hand in the dark, every time he kissed him, Billy liked to think that if he was capable of being loved, then he couldn’t be all that bad, but then he just remembers what he did to Max, to her friends, Lucas and El especially, to Heather, to Mrs. Wheeler, and the list kept going. Everywhere he went, he just hurt people, and he only had himself to blame. He said he wanted to be better than Neil, but every time something happened that he didn’t know how to respond to, he got so angry and he lost himself. 

“If you hurt him,” Robin looked down at him, “I won’t just hurt you. I’ll make you beg for me to end you.”

And he would deserve it, Billy thought. “I’ll get back to you by tonight.” He breathed.

“I’ll be back here tomorrow morning. Chief Hopper’s funeral is tomorrow, and Steve and I are going together. So, you can give it to me then and I’ll send it out afterwards.” They put the damn thing off long enough. Apparently, most people weren’t sure he was really dead, so they insisted on a thorough search first, and now that any hopes are gone, they’ve decided to let the Byers’ lay him to rest.

Billy nodded. Either he was going to stay, in which case every moment he spent here pretending to be dead was proof he didn’t actually want to change for the better, or he was going to leave, in which case he was only leading Steve on, and he was going to leave just one more hurt person in Hawkins. 

This was an opportunity to prove he absolutely could change, he decided. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Not anymore. He wasn’t going to lay a finger on anyone who hasn’t started it. His first step was going to be going to that funeral. 

“You know…” Robin sighed. Alright, so the badass bitch thing might not suit her the way she wanted it to. “he really likes you. Talks about you all the time, always prefaced with something like ‘I know he’s an asshole but,’. You don’t know me much, we’ve only spoken a few times here, but I feel like I know you pretty well if Steve’s gushing can be taken at face value.”

Gushing? Billy almost scoffed. About him? 

“He really makes it seem like you’re a good guy somewhere in there, and I… I just hope that’s true, because he’s my best friend and I love him, and I don’t want to see him hurt.” 

Billy wanted to yell, that she doesn’t know anything about him and that she should keep her nose out of things that weren’t any of her business, but he took a deep breath and calmed down. Steve was her best friend. It was very much so her business. “Hey Robin?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

She smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

The cemetery was packed. It looked like almost everyone in town took the time to be there, but an estimate was difficult since it just had to be raining. The service, however, was unaffected. A few random bible quotes about life and death and remembrance preceded dozens of speeches and stories from the people who knew him. The deputy told stories about how Hopper came off as aloof, but he really cared; Joyce spoke about how kind and thoughtful he was right up to the end; stories about little things he did to make someone laugh or smile, lovable scoundrel moments. So many people had something to share. 

The official story was that a gas main blew under the mall and sent the whole place up into flames, but a select few knew what had really happened. 

Billy actually showed up at the ass end of the funeral, much to Steve and Robin’s surprise. He was nowhere to be found when they left for the funeral a couple hours ago, there he was, wearing a suit Steve had never seen before in the near three years Billy lived here. 

Truth was, Billy set Steve’s alarm for a bit before Steve and Robin were going to leave, and he left the house, taking full advantage of the missing sun for the first time. He’d ran back home, literally, to rummage around his room for something to use as a talisman. He’d timed this so no one would be home, because he wanted to take his time to find something meaningful; but the thing was, Billy was coming to realize how little any of these things meant to him, and how little he had. A couple posters on the wall, an ashtray, a dartboard, cassette player, a lamp, a clock, a few empty beers lying around, but with a thin layer of dust. He ignored how very different his own room looked from the ones heed been spending all his time in and rooted around in his closet for something appropriate for a funeral. In the back, he found a suit he’d long forgotten about, the one he was forced to wear to Susan and Neil’s shitty wedding. He figured if he didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, then it’d be the best option, so he threw it on and dug around a little more. 

In the corner of his little closet rumpled up on the floor, Billy found his old denim jacket; the one he outgrew as he hit his first growth spurt but never got around to tossing. It was as good as anything, he thought and ripped off one of the buttons. Then he tossed the contents of his nightstand drawer into his bag and his running shoes, because truly the thing he was most excited for was going to be able to go on marathon runs again. And okay since he turned, running 20 miles was as easy as running a single mile when he was human, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t just as gratifying. 

Good thing he’d brought an umbrella from the coat rack at Steve’s because there was no way there was one in this house, and it was fine getting here soaking wet, but he couldn’t get to the funeral like that. At least he was already in town at this point, so the walk only took about fifteen minutes. 

He spotted Steve’s beamer and tossed his bag inside, then blended into the crowd. Listening carefully, Billy found Steve’s muttering within seconds and meandered towards them. 

“Jesus,” Steve jumped when Billy touched the small of his back to let him know he was there. 

“Oh my god, what are you doing??” Robin almost hissed at him, “it’s the middle of the day!” 

“Relax, it’s going to rain all day, no chance of sunshine, and I have an umbrella just in case. It’s fine.” Billy didn’t actually know if an umbrella would help in the case of spontaneous sunshine, but indirect light was just fine, so as long as he was in a shadow, he thought he’d be fine. 

Steve swore he had that same umbrella. 

“Besides, I had to pay my respects.”

“You knew Hopper?”

“Not really, but I know he was a cool guy. He gave me a couple speeding tickets, but he wasn’t mean about it. I swear this one time a cop almost took my head off for the lip I was giving him, back in California. He did end up arresting me and I was held for three days, but to be fair I did break his nose.”

“You’re like the walking definition of hypermasculinity and I do not mean that as a compliment.” Robin said

“I’m changing.”

“He is.” Steve looked at Robin sincerely. “He hasn’t punched anyone in weeks.”

“A personal record.” Billy joked. 

Robin looked down and saw their hands clasped together; a gesture of affection Billy wouldn’t’ve been caught dead doing even a few months ago. 

Pretty brave of two boys to be holding hands in public, in a small town, in a huge crowd, at a cop’s funeral. Robin kept adding to her thought. 

Billy squeezed Steve’s hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. The anonymity of being just another black figure in a crowd if near identical black figured made him feel safe enough. Plus, with how close he stood next to Steve purposefully, so anyone behind them couldn’t see two suits holding hands. It occurred to him that he was being too careful, but he would do anything to make sure Steve was safe, and while he could handle a possible hate crime, since he has many times before, he had no idea if Steve could. 

“You know he saved the world, right? Like for real.”

Billy and Steve looked at Robin. 

“Joyce told me the whole story. Her, Hopper, and their friend shut down the portal machine thing under the mall, the thing that was keeping the door to the upside down open. That was what exploded. She said that he gave his life so that the door would close forever. There’s no body in that coffin. Joyce said he was completely vaporized by how close he was to the machine. He’s a hero.”

“That’s amazing…” Steve felt terrible. He had no idea that’s what happened. “The papers said he was investigating a longshot tip that people were going to rob the stores in the mall, and it blew up when he was inside. That doesn’t do him any justice.” Steve shook his head.

Billy fidgeted. He could hear Max. They were so close he could see her crop of bright red hair not even twenty feet to his right. He took his hand away from Steve’s and shoved it int his pocket. When Steve looked at him to ask what was wrong, Billy motioned with his eyes and Steve spotted that same red hair. 

“Let’s go,” Steve bumped his shoulder, “before they see you.” He took Robin’s arm to get her attention and they separated from the crowd. 

Billy felt the button in his pocket and remembered to hand it to Robin. “Here’s the bauble, for the thingy.”

“Cool, I’ll get it in the mail today.” She took it and looked it over as they walked to the car. 

Neil turned and watched the trio leave, with a dark look on his face.


	11. Chapter 11

Billy needed to eat again. Actually, he had to eat a month ago again, but didn’t feel right asking Steve. Serendipity had his back though and he took advantage of a hiker that got pretty close to Steve’s backyard to top up. Then he hit the guy hard enough to knock him out and honestly that was his entire plan; hit him hard enough that he wouldn’t remember anything. 

He’d been holding off as long as he could, hoping some random miracle would grace his presence again, but it didn’t seem to be happening. Normally speaking, he’d eat about twice a month, but he’d gone six weeks before. He wouldn’t ever do that again though, because he almost killed the person he fed off of, and he never wanted to risk that again. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for Steve holding his arm out towards him in offering, though.  
“Forget I mentioned it. I’ll just find some drunk and take a-”

“Absolutely not!” Steve scoffed. “Better me, than some rando stranger. Look- I’ll even like, get the first aid kit if you think you’re gonna make a mess, c’mon.” Steve watched Billy expectantly. 

“You don’t get the gravity of what you’re offering.”

“Blood? I make more every day; I won’t miss it.” He exhaled a short laugh.

Billy had felt it firsthand a number of times. 

More often than not, when a vampire needed to feed, the only option was to feed off a stranger; one who would absolutely scream and put up a fight if bitten into and hurt, but vampires had a type of fluid they injected through their fangs, not quite a venom, since venom was poison, and this was very much the opposite. Let’s say any food source became very willing to be fed on once bitten. 

It was an aphrodisiac. 

It got the blood pumping hard and fast, easier to drink, calmed the person down and eased their inhibitions. The adrenaline that fear would give off made blood taste just horrible, it ruined it.

Billy absolutely loved how pliable it had made him; he’d had his best orgasms on it.

“What? Does it hurt like hell? I got tortured by Russians. I’ll be fine.”

“Not exactly. No.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Steve sounded defensive.

Billy sighed. “Okay, just,” he grabbed Steve’s arm, “shut up.” He bit down.

Steve winced, but he only felt it for a second. Then it felt really warm and… quite good, like a mild whole-body massage. 

“That’s uh, phhe, yeah, okay, uh huh, I see what you meant.” He took a deep breath. “Oh wow.” 

Billy took his sweet time letting the blood gently flow into his mouth, the anticoagulant in his saliva do its job. 

Steve shuddered and stifled a giggle. It was making him feel all sorts of giddy. He reached out and grabbed Billy’s shoulder, even sitting it felt like he was spinning, but in a very good way, and his knees got wobbly.

“I told you.” Billy said, pulling away to admire his little bite mark, blood weeping freely from it. 

“I’m gonna jus-” Steve more fell than just sat down onto the recliner near him and Billy couldn’t resist taking his place on his lap. Then, he went a little farther than he needed to and found a nice soft spot on Steve’s neck to take another bite. 

“Billy-” Steve gasped, no pain at all. He couldn’t help himself; the feeling was indescribable. He rolled his hard-on against Billy’s hips, desperate for some friction, but then suddenly Billy drew away. Steve audibly whined despite himself and tried to pull Billy back down onto him.

Billy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and puncture his finger with a fang, then spread a bit of his blood over each of the four little punctures he made in Steve, who was just transfixed by what he was doing.

God, Billy would love nothing more than to ride Steve into oblivion right then, but Steve didn’t know; he didn’t understand what would happen when he bit him, but now he did and when he came down from that high, he could be properly embarrassed about it and forget it happened and never bring it up again. 

“Okay,” Billy smirked at the look on Steve’s face, “it’ll wear off soon. Just sit there and stay.” Billy got up and left the room, making for the kitchen.

First time’s always the most intense, he thought, musing on his own first time. Well, Steve wasn’t quite fully conscious the first time, so that didn’t count. He was almost a little jealous Steve for to feel all that and he couldn’t. Hello immunity, goodbye coming completely untouched.

Billy washed his hands and face in the kitchen sink and patted his face dry with the towel hanging on the oven handle. He didn’t look that different, did he? It’s hard to remember if he ever looked any different, aging being such a gradual change, not that he had to ever worry about that again. He prodded at his face, looking at his reflection in the window; eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, those two little fangs he remembered coming in. It was horrible. 

Over just a few days, new teeth had grown inside his maxilla and pushed his adult teeth aside, growing new muscles and tendons, not to mention the glands that grew above his palate containing his venom. He flexed the muscles in his mouth and watched his needle-like fangs unsheathe themselves from his gums. It was pretty cool actually. 

“Jesus Christ,” Steve spoke up, “I feel like I got hit by a truck.” He padded into the kitchen, cheeks a little red with embarrassment. 

“That’ll happen.” Billy filled a glass with water and handed it to Steve, who chugged it. “So, uh… thanks.” 

“I’m happy I can help.” Steve smiled softly and gave Billy a sweet kiss. “But, uh, you know that little healing trick could’ve come in handy with this.” He pointed at his eyebrow. “Or this.” Then his lip.

“What can I say? I thought cleaning up your little scrapes might make you feel some feelings.” 

“Feel some feelings?” He grinned.

‘Yeah, you know. Plus, you have some cool scars now. Those will definitely impress the girls.”

Steve laughed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for graphic depiction of violence, specifically child abuse- there's blood and broken bones and slurs

About a week later, Billy was on a walk, just getting some fresh air. He’d be running, but he didn’t want to chance getting seen by a random passerby and have them assume he needs help, because what freak just runs in the middle of the night… on the side of the road… in the woods… Billy scoffed. Yeah, the last thing he needed were cops asking what he, a troubled teenage boy, was doing out so late. 

He heard the rumbling long before he saw the headlights of a car driving down the road in the opposite direction he was walking, and Billy felt like there was lead in his stomach. His body seemed to know before he did, that that car sounded familiar, because it was Neil’s. He was fully illuminated by the lights before he tried to turn sharply away to avoid being recognized, but it was pointless. The brakes squealed and Billy ran towards the trees, knowing that if he got at least a few seconds of a head start he could get away, his night vision far superior than any human’s. 

“Billy!” Neil hollered; his voice gravelly with rage. The car door slammed.

Billy turned and saw him running towards him, carrying a bat, backlit by red taillights. “Shit.” His heart raced and he tried to pick up his pace, but he wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of him, eyes locked on what was coming for him. Billy tripped over something and he fell and knocked into a tree. Neil had gotten a boost in speed as he ran down the hill the ditch made, and it was enough to catch up to Billy as he scrambled to get up.

“Nonono please N-AUGH!” Billy cried out as Neil stomped down on Billy’s ankle to stop him from getting up.  
“Hold still!”

“Don’t-!” 

Neil brought his arms up and swung the bat down against the back of Billy’s head with a blood-chilling crack.

Billy’s vision went bright white and then black and the ground underneath him turned into water. His muscles seemed to all give out at once as he collapsed against the ground, and all he could hear was ringing, like high pitched tv static blaring in his ears. It was like Billy felt everything and nothing all at once, every nerve ending on fire and throbbing, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

Neil took a fistful of Billy’s hair and hauled him up to face him. Billy screamed but barely heard it. He switched hands to hold Billy against the tree by his throat, the bat in his other hand. 

“Thought maybe you wised up and left for good like your pig whore mother, but you were never that smart.” Neil snarled and swung the bat again, hitting Billy in the ribs. “You leave me to deal with Maxine, don’t tell me she’s friends with a porch monkey neither!” He swung again, hitting him in the same spot. “And you show back up with a brazen display you’re back on your faggot shit I thought I beat out of you years ago! I see I need to use a firmer hand!!” Neil hit him on the side of his knee and that made a nasty pop. 

Billy screamed again, and he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Every cell in his body was begging him to call for help, to find the ground and get away, but it was like he was possessed and couldn’t move a muscle. This was it then, wasn’t it? He was going to die by the side of the road in a nowhere town, beaten to death, left to rot, because no one would care enough to go looking. 

“You’ll never be anything but an ungrateful faggot layabout who only cares about himself!!!” Neil shrieked and let go of Billy to cock back the bat with both hands, entire body twisted up in preparation to swing as hard as he possibly could.

Billy saw through blurred vision there was murder in Neil’s eyes, something completely devoid of humanity. This was pure evil, merciless, animalistic hatred. Billy’s eyes drifted down towards the ground and closed them, not wanting to watch. The next second crawled by in frames. Billy heard Neil reach the apex of his swung and grunt, bearing his weight down to drive that thirty ounces of maple right towards his skull. 

In an instant, Billy found his senses again, and faster than even he knew he could, his hand whipped up to grab the business end of the bat mere inches from his head. Suddenly Billy thought that, no, he didn’t deserve every shitty thing that happened to him, and he wasn’t going to let Neil get away with this.  
Billy looked back up, multiple blood vessels in his one eye popped and he set his jaw. He yanked the bat out of Neil’s hand and hurled it into the woods far behind them. 

Neil looked at him, bewildered and before he knew what was happening, he was on his back in the dirt and Billy was roaring. 

“You think you get to be the one to kill me?!?!” Billy sent his fist squarely against his jaw. “I’m not the same child you used to beat!” Billy yelled at him everything he’d been holding back since he was a kid, every other word emphasized by a blow. He felt the bones breaking under his fists. He felt Neil’s blood misting his face. Billy hit him anywhere he could reach, trying to make up for years of beatings in one ruthless retaliation- face, ribs, stomach, arms. He without a doubt had broken his nose, cheekbone, eye socket, ribs, his arm, and he wanted to continue beating until his skull was nothing but roadkill. But he couldn’t. 

Billy slowed down and stopped, looking down at Neil’s unconscious body, sobbing. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane from the adrenaline, the fear and rage. This was exactly what he was most terrified of becoming: violent, heartless, cruel. No. No, Billy shook his head. Giving Neil what was coming to him was different than child abuse. What would make him exactly like him would be if Billy left him here to drown in his own blood or get found by coyotes. 

“FUCK!!!” He screamed at the sky, giving it everything he had, and he slumped onto the ground, crying hopelessly. 

A while later, as his tears dried up, be it because he dehydrated himself or he was just numbed, he didn’t care. Billy stood up and bore weight on his leg, like the knee wasn’t broken ten minutes ago. He sighed and looked at Neil on the ground again. He didn’t look like Billy’s monster under the bed anymore. He looked like a beaten and battered man in desperate need of medical attention. 

Billy carried him to his car and laid him in the back, calmly driving to the hospital. It wasn’t far away, but it felt far with Billy’s heart still hammering in his chest, the silence besides the engine revving. He just wanted to get home and go to sleep. Home, he realized what he called Steve’s house, and the softest of sounds escaped his lips. 

He pulled into the ambulance bay and shut the car off, leaving the keys in the ignition. A few orderlies ran out as he was walking away to see what was happening and Billy merely turned around and pressed a single finger to his lips. Shh. And he kept walking away. He heard one of them call for a gurney before he retreated into his thoughts, already trying to forget what happened.


	13. Chapter 13

Billy got back to Steve’s much later, progress slowed by grief and a sudden downpour. He walked into the house, feeling like things weren’t quite real, like he was floating. He blinked and he was in the den, dripping on the floor; blinked again and he was in the kitchen, hands in the sink, running them under water so scalding hot the window steamed up and his skin glowed red. 

“Billy? That you?” Steve’s voice was soft, and it rasped with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and pulled his housecoat more tightly closed against the chill. 

Billy didn’t hear him. 

“You left the door wide open.” Steve shut it and followed the lights to the kitchen. “It’s the middle of the n- Billy!” Steve saw the figure standing over the sink, soaking wet, covered in what looked like blood and dirt and he started to freak out. 

“What happened, are you okay?” He rushed up to his side.

Billy flinched at the movement and came back to himself, yanking his hands out from under the water. “I-” His eyes wandered, looking for where to even start.

Steve grabbed the towel off the oven handle and started to pat down Billy’s face. His mind was running a mile a minute about all the things that could’ve happened. Of course, what he feared most in that moment was Billy killed someone. He had no idea what Billy used to do to… feed. Maybe this wasn’t even the first time. Billy was shaking. 

“Neil.” Billy said. “I- tried to defend myself… He beats me.” Billy met Steve’s gaze. 

Steve didn’t know what to say, so he just shushed them both. Billy looked like hell; snotty, covered in tears, blood, dirt, leaves in his hair. He shut the sink off and took Billy’s arm, coaxing him to follow.

The master bath in his parents’ room was huge and hasn’t been used in months, so Steve didn’t care Steve sat Billy down on the bench in front of the mirror and started the water in the shower, two huge showerheads immediately started filling the room with steam. 

“Hey,” Steve almost whispered, and tugged at the hem of Billy’s shirt. “C’mon, you gotta get out of these.” 

Billy pushed Steve’s hand away and pulled off his shirt. “I got it. I know how to take a shower.” The words were sarcastic, but they came out with no bite, he was too tired. 

“Okay, I’ll grab you some clean clothes.” Steve hesitated by the door, taking a moment to watch Billy try and peel his jeans off. He saw it firsthand- how fast he heals, but he still looked for wounds. Billy’s skin was smooth and unmarked by anything but those scars he’d seen many times before. He shut the door.

Billy was significantly broader than he was, so Steve just grabbed some sweats that were overly baggy on him and set them on the bench in the bathroom before digging the mop out of the broom closet and getting to work. The floor was filthy, and it would be easier to clean it up while it was still wet, otherwise he’d have to scrub. It was soothing- the rhythm and he was thankful the only floor soiled was woo. Then before he knew it, he heard the water switch off. 

Steve rushed to put the mop away and grab blankets and every pillow out of the linen closet. He had no idea how to deal with this sort of thing, but when he was younger, he liked to make a big nest of quilts and pillows and the stuffed animals he definitely didn’t still have, and that always made him feel better. Steve threw the pile on the floor, pulled the couch back, moved the coffee table, grabbed even more blankets and started working on the pile. 

Billy meandered out of the bathroom tucked into Steve’s ratty sweatpants. The shower did make him feel better, and the shampoo he used smelled like something familiar that he couldn’t place, that made him think about carefree summers as a child. When he got into the den, Billy saw Steve mussing around with just a huge pile of linens and he made a face. 

“Hey, hi,” Steve smiled awkwardly. “Come ‘ere.” He motioned.

Billy hesitated, but that goofy look on Steve’s face and how he was tapping the floor with his hand, he just couldn’t refuse. He got down into the pile and took a minute to get comfortable. 

Steve latched onto Billy’s back and snaked his arms around him tightly. “Do you…” Steve adjusted his arm, “want to talk about it?” 

Billy let loose a big sigh and thought about it for a moment, “yes, actually…” He whispered. “I’ve been planning on leaving as soon as I get my charm, because this was my chance to get away without hurting Max, but that fell apart. And Neil must’ve saw me at the funeral, stupid idea to go there, and he tracked me down. He came at me with a bat and got me cornered against a tree,” Billy’s voice cracked.

Steve squeezed; his heart was pounding in his ears. 

“I just… lost it. I hit him over and over again…” Billy took a minute.  
Steve was listening silently, trying not to focus on the fact that Billy was beat. He couldn’t imagine having his parents hit him; it was no wonder Billy was so aggressive, Steve thought, it’s all he knew.

“I left him at the hospital. He was alive… I don’t want to be like him…”

Steve stroked Billy’s chest, “Well… I don’t really know anything about this sort of thing, but I think caring enough to take him to the hospital and worry about being like him is a full flight of steps towards never being like him.” Steve took a breath. “Don’t answer if you don’t want to but… why haven’t you stood up to him before?”

“I don’t know.” And he really didn’t. He was bigger and stronger than Neil; had been for quite some time.   
Steve kissed the back of his neck a few times. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this.”

“Don’t I? I’ve hurt people…”

“No.” Steve said firmly. “The past is the past. You’re changing. He hasn’t or wouldn’t. That, like, empirically makes you better than him. It’s over now, I don’t think he’ll ever lay a hand on you again.” 

Billy mused on this, absently playing with one of Steve’s hands. He was feeling sorry for himself, and guilty, and angry, but rationally he knew it was because he just went through a lot and his brain was going haywire. He’ll feel better later, so for now he can just relax in Steve’s arms, in a weird plush cocoon.


	14. Chapter 14

Robin barged into Steve’s house midmorning in a very good mood. She rushed over as soon as the mail ran and loudly announced that she had a present. 

Steve and Billy jolted awake on the floor, groggy and sore from the hard surface despite the several layers of fluff. Billy buried himself back under the blankets, determined to get more sleep, but Steve sat up and rubbed his eyes and stretched out. 

“Aww, fall asleep watching Hallmark, boys?” She teased and flopped down noisily onto the couch.   
“Shut. Up.” Billy grumbled under his pillow.

“Morning Robin.” Steve yawned and yanked the pillow off Billy’s head. 

Robin dropped the parcel on Billy’s head and smirked at the way he huffed and sat up. 

He changed his mood real quick when he saw what she dropped on him though. He upended the envelope and the necklace fell in his hand. It wasn’t just his button on a string, though, because there was a blue teardrop shaped stone in the chain too. 

“What’s this?”

“It’s called larimar,” Robin said, “just something to spruce it up.”

Steve and Robin made split second eye contact. Steve had asked Robin to do it actually- he special ordered the piece from a jeweler from he didn’t remember where, but he said it was one of the highest quality pieces he’d ever come upon. Steve didn’t know anything about gems and fancy rocks, so he had no clue if he was being conned but seeing it in Billy’s hand now and seeing the look on his face, he didn’t care. It would be so worth whatever punishment his dad cooked up for him for taking a hundred dollars out of the safe. 

Billy rolled it around his hand, eyeballing every side of the conical stone. It was gorgeous. It looked exactly like water. It… didn’t feel magical. He clasped it on around his neck and got up to get right in front of the bay window curtain. Billy took a deep breath and took a moment before whipping them open… nothing. He scoff-laughed and looked down on his sun-bathed skin. “Oh my god.” 

Billy ran upstairs to change out of Steve’s clothes and get into some of his own. He was still pulling on his shorts when he was bounding down the stairs and he couldn’t care less if Robin saw his bare ass. He barely even got his shoes on before bursting out of the door, taking off like a rocket. 

Steve watched Billy leave, once again the door still wide open, and pursed his lips. “He means ‘thank you’.” 

“Mhm.” Robin nodded, finally taking a second to really soak in what she was looking at. “Blanket nest?” 

“Yeah.”

Billy ran, and he ran, and he rain, at top speed without break, feeling the sweat drop down his forehead, the burn in his lungs, the sting of the muscles in his legs. He sprinted, pushing himself to the very limit of his physical ability, onlookers be damned. Topping out at Olympic speeds for entire miles at a time. Oh how he reveled in this feeling. For the first time in literal months, he was no longer confined by anything, not that he felt confined at Steve’s house. 

If anything he’d felt freer than ever before, not having to constantly be listening for the slightest indication that Neil was in a bad mood, or have a handful of contingency plans for any given injury Neil could’ve given him, or what to do if he found Susan dead one morning, or Max went missing. He didn’t have to put on this front every second of every day, hide any indication that he was anything other than the picture of masculinity. He didn’t have to be worried when he got back into his room after school and find Neil was rooting around through his things, scared to death that he found the playgirls under the floorboard. 

What he really missed, he realized, was simply the sun. Turns out it was having a major effect on his mood, go figure. 

Billy was still running when he reached town. He ran down main street, through the suburbs, and down his street. He’d run well over ten miles when he approached his house, and finally slowed down, curiosity getting the better of him. There was no car in the driveway. 

Interest piqued, he turned up the driveway and went inside. The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was Max and El standing in the middle of the living room. It looked like a tornado blew through the place. 

“What… happened here?” 

“Billy!” Max ran up to him and started to give him a hug, but she made a disgusted face. “You are extremely sweaty.” 

“Yeah I was running. Max, what happened here?”

“Neil happened! He woke me and morning making a huge mess- he had a cast on, and he looked like shit-”

“Max-”

“He grabbed a bunch of things and he left. I asked El to come over and try and see what he’s doing and-”

“He’s gone.” El finished her sentence. 

Billy pretended he had no idea why he had that cast. 

“So, mom’s at the sheriff’s station filing a report.”

“He isn’t coming back.” Eleven looked at Billy, trying to convey that she knew the significance behind this happening. She offered a little smile. 

“Cool new necklace.” Max looked at it, being overly obvious with breathing through her mouth and not her nose, mocking her brother. “So…” She handed him a garbage bag, “what did you do?” She whispered. 

Billy sucked his teeth. “Enough.” He took the bag. “Let’s clean this place up.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here's the reason for the e rating, did i make yall wait long enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to have this whole fic done by today, but I haven't been able to write at all- my power's been out for several days now and I've only just gotten around to charging my laptop and working at a friend's place :/, anyway I might not have heat right now but that doesn't mean you can't have some lmao!

“Hey, you disappeared for half the day. Where’d you go?” Steve rolled down the stairs when he heard the front door open. He shivered when he saw Billy and remembered he left the house in only shorts.

“Home.”

Steve’s chest tightened.

“I was helping Max clean up the place. Apparently, Neil skipped town.” He smiled.

Steve smiled back at him, quickly rifling through his thoughts to find the right thing to say. ‘You deserve it.’ Nope. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ No. “Well, I have a surprise that’ll put you in an even better mood.” Better.

“Bar’s set pretty high there, b-arrington.” Billy stumbled over his words.

“Bearington?”

“I started to say ‘babe’ and panicked.” 

Steve hid a stupid grin and a blush with a hand rubbed across his face. “Babe?”

“I know; it was too much.” 

“No, no, I… like it… babe.” He mocked a little, shaking his head a bit for emphasis. “Jus- come here, come on.” He motioned for Billy to follow and led him to the door to the garage. There, he opened the squeaky door and flicked on the fluorescents.

“Oh my god!” Billy lit up like the fourth of July, grinning ear to ear and rushed over to properly greet his car, spotless, looking brand spanking new. “Oh, oh, she’s perfect!” He ran his fingers down her lines and gave her a fat kiss.

“She?” Steve was smiling just as wide, leant against the door jam and watching Billy glow with joy.

Billy made a face that said ‘duh’ and said, “Her name is Stella.” He opened the door and hopped inside to check out the interior, still not quite believing she was here, not smashed to hell in some scrap yard or already stripped and melted down. “But I… I can’t, you know I can’t afford to pay you back for this.”

“I don’t want you to. It’s a present.” Steve came forward and leant against the rear fender. “If you’re gonna tease me for being a rich boy, I might as well live up to the name, right?”

“Steve-”

“I’m serious; if you even try to give me money, I’ll give you ten times back.”

“Well,” Billy got out of the car and faced Steve, putting on some canned cheesy voice. “I guess I’ll have to find another way to show you my gratitude, then won’t I?” He licked his lip. “I’m sure we can come up with something?” Billy batted his eyes comically at him. 

Steve rolled his eyes but kept smiling. He grabbed Billy’s hip and dug his finger under the waistband of his teeny tiny dolphin shorts. 

Billy just grabbed his crotch.

Steve jumped. “Jesus, okay.”

Billy grinned. Oh, he’d been patient, but he’d just gotten an interest green light. He flexed his eyebrow at him, wordlessly asking if he was sure, though the hand grabbing his dick through his pants was probably enough to accomplish that already. “I’m gonna pop your boy cherry.” 

Steve shut him up with a tongue in his mouth.

Billy grabbed Steve’s polo by its collar and kissed him harder, slamming him up against the side of the car, just a little harder than he needed to. 

Steve gasped a little, not expecting that and used two fingers to push Billy back, just an inch. “What happened to gentle?” He smirked, remembering when Billy mocked him the first time Robin came over. 

“Alright, princess.” Billy leant over and hoisted Steve up bridal style like he weighed nothing at all. 

Steve yelped and started giggling, wrapping his arms around Billy’s neck for extra support. Though he knew he wouldn’t drop him. 

Billy carried him back into the house, kicking the door closed behind him, and walked them into the den. “Nest? Couch? Bed? The wall? Table?” 

Oh Jesus Christ, Steve thought, had Billy fucked someone over a table? He covered his face to hide how bright red he was, again, and to hide his sheepish smile. It occurred to him that he’d never been so straightforward with girlfriends past to ask them anything besides the occasional “Is this okay?”. Maybe that was why he was so embarrassed at the prospect of being asked exactly where he’d like to get fucked. 

Billy waited a second for an answer, but went for the stairs, knowing well what Steve’s likely answer was, since half of what he asked was just to fluster him anyway- and it worked. He got to Steve’s bedroom and opened it himself, only needing one arm to carry him, and even then, he didn’t have to try. He wasn’t only strong; Steve was just small.

Billy gently tossed Steve down on the bed and crawled in over the top of him, angling in to get his tongue back in his mouth.

Billy isn’t shy, not by a long shot and Steve’s inexperience made him hesitant. Of course, he was a bit nervous, he’d never had sex with a guy before. He’s jerked off, obviously, he’s a teenage boy, so he knows his way around at least his own dick, so the same rules should apply, right? He still let Billy take charge though. 

“Tell me to stop,” Billy whispered in Steve’s ear, sure to touch his lips to the shell of it, “if you need me to.” He snaked his hands under Steve’s shirt, bouncing the mattress a little to get it up off his back and over his head and threw it aside. Billy pet his chest, admiring the little patch of dark chest hair, whispies almost reaching down to connect with a treasure trail just as dark. It made his mouth water. 

Steve was a little dazed, hands trailing over any bit of Billy that he could reach, feeling up from his latissimus, teres, trapezius, deltoid, bicep; that boy didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. Steve could make out with ease where the muscle groups ended and started, only the tiniest bit in awe he remembered the names of them from anatomy in junior year. 

Billy pinched Steve’s nipple and smiled at his little open-mouthed whine, just testing. He decided then that at a future time, he was going to have to see how far he could get Steve going by playing with his chest alone. He grabbed Steve’s jeans and yanked down on them, pulling Steve’s entire body down on accident, making him knock his head into Steve’s chin. 

“Ah, shit.” Billy looked up and Steve was laughing, He didn’t bite his tongue or anything, his teeth just made a comically loud clack sound. “Sorry.” He smiled.

“Yeah, no, they’re on tight.” Steve unbuttoned and pushed his jeans off his hips, letting Billy hike them the rest of the way down and off. 

Billy tossed those aside too, not a care to where they land, and pushed Steve back up the bed so there was room for him to crawl down and situate himself between his legs. He pressed his face against Steve’s underwear and inhaled deeply, unashamed by how very into sweat and musk he was. He licked his length through the fabric as well, barely containing his glee at how big Steve’s dick was. He’d snuck a peek in the showers after gym once or twice, and soft he was huge, and uncut, and had a full bush, oh God how Billy was in for a treat. He literally ripped Steve’s underwear off.

“Hey- Jesus!” Steve started off, that was a comfy pair of undies, but he stopped caring the instant Billy grabbed him by the base of his shaft. He was at full attention now, in mind and dick. 

Billy was moon-eyed, like a kid with a brand-new toy. His dick was the size of his head, he slapped his face a few times and licked up the underside from base to tip. It felt like an hour getting from a to b. “Oh my god.” Billy couldn’t help himself.

Billy swallowed his length and Steve groaned. He needed to warm up a little though, since he could only get about two thirds of the way down. He took a breath through his nose and pushed down farther, almost. 

“Jeeeesus.” Steve exhaled and Billy slowly pulled off his cock and sucked at the head. He grabbed Billy and tangled his fingers in his hair. He’d only been blown a couple times before; the girls he’d been with hadn’t been too keen on it for about nine, nine and a half reasons, but this was incredible. Billy clearly knew what he was doing.

Billy plunged back down again, this time firmly burying his nose in that thick patch of hair. God Steve had a heavy musk and he was drunk on it. Okay, saying he was just ‘into’ those aromas was an understatement. More than once he’d gotten off with some stranger’s underwear on his face- freely given to him of course. Able to comfortably swallow him whole, Billy went to town, bobbing his head to an imaginary rhythm, slobbering all over, making the most obscene noises he possibly could.

He felt Steve trying to start fucking into his mouth, so he firmly grabbed his hip and held it down, fingers digging into his skin. Steve’s moans were melting together, and he felt him tensing up, so Billy pulled off his cock with a wet pop, frothy spit dripping down his chin, his hand taking over. 

“Oh Jesus Christ.” Steve panted and swiped his hair off his forehead. 

Billy grinned and gave him a few more strokes with his fist, dragging another ragged groan out of him. 

“Wait here.” Billy got up, his own cock stiff against his tiny shorts and he dug around in his bag for the condoms and lube he grabbed from his nightstand, finding them in the bottom with a bunch of other random shit. 

Steve sat up on his elbows, hair sticking up wildly in every direction. “What.” He saw Billy with those items.

Billy walked back onto the bed and held up three fingers. “Be prepared.” He said in a jokey voice. 

He laughed, “No way, no fucking way were you a boy scout.”

“No, but they’re right.” Billy tossed them next to Steve and tugged his underwear off, then took his position straddling Steve’s thighs.

Steve stuttered out an “Oh” upon seeing not one, not two, but three piercings in a row along the underside of Billy’s dick. “It’s- you’re… pierced.” He was surprised, understatedly, and the thought of him doing that to himself made him wince, but god did he think that was hot. 

Billy grinned, his tongue between his teeth, and drew his dick upward to properly show off the three neon green barbell rings making up his Jacob’s ladder. 

“Did that hurt?” Steve absently massaged Billy’s thighs.

“No.” Billy grabbed and uncapped the bottle of lube. “But then again I’m not a pussy, so,” he shrugged and laughed at Steve’s attempt to hurl a pillow at him. 

“Shut up, but, also, like… will I feel them?” Steve looked in every direction but at Billy. 

“Uh,” Billy looked at him confused as he reached around and pushed his entire middle finger inside him, “yeah, unless this has nerve damage.” He grabbed Steve’s hand with his free one and brought it to his neglected cock. 

“Oh.” Steve was clearly under the impression he was the one that was going to get fucked, and his shocked relief was plain on his face. 

“Oh?” Billy huffed, pleased with the attention his cock was getting. “Oh! You thought… no, I just assumed since I’ve been fucked by other guys before, that this would be easier.” Billy slid another slicked-up finger inside with ease and started fucking himself in earnest. 

“Oh my god,” Steve sat up fully, forcing Billy to move back a little, “am I even gonna fit?”

“I’ll make it fit.” Billy shoved Steve back down into the bed and met him with a kiss, all tongue. He liked the way Steve tasted- like cinnamon and heat. After a moment, Billy started pulling back, eager to finally get around Steve, but his lips followed him, so he snaked his hands into Steve’s hair and pulled him down. Steve gasped. He added hair-pulling to that mental teasing list. 

Billy slid the condom onto Steve and squeezed out more lube from the bottle to slick him up, perhaps overdoing it- for good measure- and leant back, pushing Steve’s cock up against his hole and he bore down, pushing one, two inches inside- stop. “Jesus,” he shuddered out a sigh.

Steve’s fingers were digging into the meat of Billy’s thighs and he was twitching, focusing all his self-control on not thrusting right up into a painful mistake. He was so fucking tight and hot, and they were barely started but it was so good. 

Billy took his sweet time, sinking down little by little. The last thing he wanted was to twinge something and not be able to enjoy what would surely be the ride of a lifetime. And it took a while, but when he was finally seated down fully on Steve’s hips, he couldn’t help letting a laugh bubble up; it would seem his ego was getting stroked too. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” This felt very different from a pussy Steve thinks, but just as good, maybe a little better, hard to judge considering he’s inside Billy right now, a bit biased. 

Billy groaned and swore, bracing his hands on Steve’s chest and giving a little test wiggle before fully thrusting his hips, finding the right angle to grind to get Steve’s cock to massage his sweet spot. And when he did, he was leant back, grabbing Steve’s thighs for leverage, and Billy rode him like his life depended on it. It was partially because he really was just a bit of a slut, but also, he was so pent up since he hadn’t gotten any dick since California, unless you count that one drunken mistake a few towns over last year, which he absolutely did not. 

Steve stared agape at Billy on him, smooth chest glistening, abs- rectus abdominus- flexing, broad shoulders stuck out wide in stark contrast to his small waist. He looked like a pornstar. He almost couldn’t believe this was happening. He reached out and grabbed Billy’s cock, remembering again that he wasn’t he only one there trying to get off. 

He kept getting distracted- the feeling of Billy wrapped around him, the metal piercings rolling under the meat of his thumb with each stroke, the show Billy was putting on, the amazing scars, of which there were a lot. The one in the center of his chest, two on each of his sides, the one he knew was on his back, countless tiny ones, like everyone had from accidents here and there, from paper cut sized to fucking massive. Though the range was skewed greatly by the outlier on Billy’s upper thigh. Steve ran his left hand up, his thumb starting to feel the perfectly smooth raised skin curiously. 

Billy stopped his rhythm immediately and leant down to stick his tongue back in Steve’s mouth, getting his attention far away from that permanent reminder of something he’d rather forget. 

Steve didn’t notice. With the new angle, he brought his heels up for leverage and started fucking Billy, tired of the pace set for him. He brought his hand up, sharply spanked his ass and squeezed for good measure, catching his confidence and eager to participate. 

Billy choked off a yelp with a pleased chuckle, and leant down, arms off his chest and into Steve’s hair, and he buried his face in the crook of his neck, mouthing at his earlobe and the skin under his jaw. Billy picked a spot far too high to cover with a turtleneck, even awkward for a scarf, and worked on a hickey, looking forward to watching him blush when someone points it out. 

“Bite me.” Steve gasped.

“Steve-” Billy warned, something not quite like a growl from deep in his chest. He wanted to.

“Bite me!” 

He’s sure. Billy sunk his teeth down into the meat of Steve’s neck and let the blood gush into his mouth; it was almost startling how sickly sweet he tasted, in stark contrast to the metallic tang he was used to. 

Steve’s jaw dropped and he cried out so loudly Billy was grateful he didn’t have neighbors. His hands clawed their way up Billy’s back and stuck firmly on his shoulder blades, digging his nails in like he would float away if he didn’t. He wasn’t close before, but now he was right on the edge. 

“You gonna come for me?” Billy pulled away from his neck and sat up to look down on his wanton face, reveling in the saccharine sting of Steve’s nails dragging down his back. A couple drops of blood fell from his chin, blooming red flowers on his chest. 

Steve couldn’t get the words to form in his mouth, and nodded instead, feverish. His head felt like it was full of water.

Billy was close too. He reached down and stroked his leaking cock, giving Steve a show of it, the smallest amount of blood grossly mixing in with the precome and the lube still left over. 

That did it. Steve’s hips stuttered and a few thrusts later he buried himself into Billy, coming so hard if his eyes weren’t squeezed tight, his vision would’ve gone black at the edges.

Billy felt his cock twitching inside him and gazed at Steve’s face contorted with pleasure, panting, glistening with sweat. His own orgasm followed shortly, very pleased with himself and what he could reduce King Steve to, this fucked out mess. Billy whined and he painted Steve a pearl necklace. His heart pounded in his ears; eyes almost black his pupils blown so wide. “Oh god.” He breathed and met Steve’s eyes. 

Steve pulled Billy back down, hands on either side of his head, and kissed him; well, he tried. The sharp metallic taste of his own blood stopped him from much more than a quick peck. “I love you.” He whispered against his lips.

Billy rolled his hips and little and squeezed Steve’s cock inside him, making him groan at the overstimulation, before pulling off and flopping down beside him on the bed. “No, you don’t; you just came.”

“Two things can be true.” He quipped, a giggle behind his words as he realized what he just said to Billy, for the first time. “You got a little,” He gestured, “me on you.”

Billy laughed. “I’m gonna shower, and, uh,” he turned his head to look at the bloody mess on the bed, Steve still passively bleeding, and his come tacky on Steve’s chest, “you should too. Sorry about your sheets… and your mattress.”

Steve sat up and turned to look at the red blotch. “Yeah that’s never coming out.”

“Hold on- c’mere.” Billy sat up and licked a bit at the oozing bite before poking his finger again and closing those tiny punctures up. 

Steve looked down comically, unable to see the bite or the closure, but he prodded the area with his fingers and felt no bite there. “That is still incredibly cool.” He wiped his fingers on the bed. “Do you have any other, like, powers?” 

“I’m supernaturally hot.” Billy reached for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand and lit one.

“Haha, no really.” 

“Um,” Billy thought. Once you get used to something you don’t realize it isn’t normal. He took a long drag of his cigarette, savoring that nicotine flooding his bloodstream. “I’m sure you noticed I’m stronger and faster than normal, but besides that I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t get the chance to learn much, from who turned me, because we moved here.”

Steve made a noise. “Okay, umm how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Steve looked at him confusedly.

“My birthday was in June, and I was held back in second grade.”

“Wait, so we’re the same age? Well, not for a couple weeks anyway.”

“Oh, a September baby.”

“Robin says me being a Virgo explains a lot. I have no idea what she’s talking about though.”

Billy scoffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. “I’m going to shower now. Feel free to join me.”


	16. Chapter 16

Steve’s eyes blinked open early morning, the sun shining squarely in his face. He turned over, intent on getting a little more sleep before he had to leave, but there was Billy looking right at him. 

They’d decided to sleep in the spare room instead of bothering to clean Steve’s bed, as though changing the sheets could help, but it was late so they both thought ‘fuck it’. Steve forgot though, that with the south facing windows in this room, the sunrise would blast into the room with the curtains open.

Curtains! Steve shot up, leaning over Billy. The little adrenaline rush woke his sleep heavy brain though, and in the half second it took to budge up, he remembered he was fine now. 

“Okay, good morning to you too.”

“Were you watching me sleep?” Steve settled beck, sitting like a normal person now. 

“Oh yeah, the back of your head is very interesting.” Billy yawned. “No, I was just relaxing. I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“You’re never up this early.”

“I always am.” Billy rolled out of the bed and pulled on his comfy jeans. “With this sun bullshit over, I can finally get back to my normal sleep schedule. Are you hungry, babe?” 

“I might have to go around telling everyone how nice you are.”

“I am not nice.” Billy rounded the bed and kissed Steve’s forehead, knocking him in the chin a little with his necklace before padding out of the room.

A short while later, Steve, fully dressed and ready for the day, floated into the kitchen, following the smell of dark roast wafting into all corners of the house. He then proceeded to fill a mug only halfway with the coffee, pour in some milk, and douse it with sugar to top it off. 

Billy sipped his black with slightly judgmental eyes.

“So…” Steve sat on the counter.

Billy raised a brow.

“Are you… gonna move back into your house?”

Billy blinked a few times. “Well, I’ve only been here because… well at first I was hiding from you and couldn’t get out, then I couldn’t leave Max here, but I couldn’t go back home because of Neil, but now… I suppose I don’t have a good reason, do I?”

Steve thought for a moment, eyes wandering back to the coffee pot. “Max has her mom, and Eleven,” he added, “and I bet your house is a lot bigger with two fewer people in it.”

Billy tilted his head and flashed a smirk. “Asking me to move in?”

“I mean, you pretty much already live here, and I sure don’t mind having access to you any time I want.” Steve slid his empty mug down the counter, out of the way, and pulled Billy up for a kiss. 

“Awful cocky, Harrington.” Billy muttered against Steve’s mouth. “What will your parents think?”

“They’re never here, and honestly? I don’t give a shit.” Steve smiled. 

“Wanna go for a ride?” Billy licked his lips and moved to top up both their cups. 

“I have to work today.” Steve’s smile faltered a bit. 

“Oh, come on, play hooky just this once. I’m sure they can handle without you.” 

Steve knew it wouldn’t be just once, and he liked it. Billy was the best bad influence. “Alright, but if I get in trouble, I’m blaming you.”

“You can say I beat you up again; bolster my bad boy image.”

“Uh, more like asshole image, I promise you.” Steve sipped at the black coffee Billy handed him and grimaced. “This shit is nasty.”

Billy rolled his eyes, “come on.”

\---

He peeled out of the driveway, cigarette lit, music blasting, chest on full display under a shirt with only the very bottom button fastened, tucked into his jeans. ‘Why bother wearing a shirt, if you’re not going to actually wear it?’ Steve had asked him one day a while back. Billy just said ‘fashion’. He took off, pedal to the metal, literally, down the road towards the old highway.

The weather was perfect, windows rolled down; the air smelled like earth and fall; the sky was near cloudless and bright blue. Best of all they had the road to themselves. Billy threatened triple digits, only slowing around curves, and the trees and fields whizzed by. Steve was staring out at the rolling hills in the distance, eyes wide with awe at the rainbow of dying leaves. He’d always liked autumn. 

Billy took a last drag and flicked his cigarette butt out the window. Now with a hand free, he snaked his fingers around Steve’s, drawing his attention back from the view for a moment. 

“Where are we going?” 

“This way.”

“Ha ha, no, really.”

“Just keep your panties on.” He smiled.

They drove for a long time; when Billy finally slowed down, he turned down a thin dirt road so dense with trees on either side it was like they were entering a tunnel. He kept going for a little bit and pulled over as far to the side as he could before killing the engine. 

“Where the hell are we?” Steve laughed. 

Billy motioned for him to follow and they walked through the woods for a few minutes until they came upon a clearing. Steve’s jaw almost found the ground. 

They were on the edge of a massive bluff, probably a hundred feet in the air overlooking the hundreds of acres of untouched land around Hawkins- barely visible in the distance. 

“I had no fucking clue you could get up here.” Steve has seen this cliff far away before, just part of the landscape. He had no idea that it was right next to a road.

Billy sat right down on the edge, hanging his legs over it. He came here a lot to escape, just get away from everything for a little while. 

Steve hesitantly did the same; looking down almost made him throw up and Billy laughed. 

“You’re fine. You won’t fall- I promise.”

It was breathtaking up here. “So, is this where you come to relax?”

“To get away, yeah, sometimes I smoke weed up here, sometimes I just look around, sometimes I throw shit off the edge and watch it fall.”

“You have some on you now?”

“No, unfortunately, the guy I bought from thinks I’m dead.”

“Shit, oh well.” Steve grinned. “This view is more than enough.”

Billy took out a cigarette and lit it and handed another one to Steve. “It’s not weed, but it’s something.”

Steve took it and pressed the end to Billy’s, lighting it that way instead of using the lighter right next to him. 

“So, this blue thing.” Billy fiddled with his necklace. “Robin tells me it was your idea to add a little something with my button, not her witch friends’.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, um… everyone thinks you look so good in red, but… I think blue is your color.”

Billy looked at him. His mother had said that when he was little. He didn’t know what it meant at the time, because he was like six, but he figured it out later.

“I meant it. You know.” Steve met his eyes. 

Billy looked a little confused.

“When I said I loved you.”

Billy smiled softly. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him. “I know.” Maybe, he thought, he snagged a good one. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fluff to finish off, hope you guys enjoyed <3


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